
Class (P ^?>5'05 
Book .1,4- A 5 



Cop}Tiglil N°_ 



anA 



COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 



ANNIE BELL 



AND OTHER POEMS 



BY ^ 

MARION Lr CLARKE 



WORCESTER, MASSACHUSETTS 
The Blanchard Press 



1906 



LIBRARY of CONGRESS 
Two Copies Received 

OCT 16 1906 

^ Coayrifht Entry ^ 
OUSsAs XXCiNo. 

^ / o ^s- 

COPY B. 



753^0 r 



Copyright, igo4 

BY Marion L. Clarkb 

Amherst, Massachusetti 



TO THE BOOK. 

Go thou forth ^ my little bookj 

Not on thy merits mayst rely, 

Nor ever heed the scornful look 

Of any who will pass thee by; 

Some may pause, and few may kindly 

View thy pages oer, 

Tender eyes bearn on thee mildly, 

Find here verses many score; 

Some were writ in saddest mood. 

Few may do some lone heart good, 

In thy perusal, passing time, 

WondWing who wrote such simple rhyme. 



Those were happy days, sweet Annie Bell I 
When we heard together the old church bell ; 
The years are many and sad since then, 
But no love of my heart has ever been 
Like the love I bore to thee ! 

Oh, Annie Bell ! Why did I dream 
To fill a place in the world's esteem? 
I have won honor, and fortune, and fame, 
But what to me is an empty name? 
Since thou art lost to me. 

'Twas here that we parted, sweet Annie Bell ! 
Here where the shade of the old tree fell, 
I remember it always — remember it well ; 
The old tree is withering, passing away. 
Its leaves to the winds, its trunk to decay, 
And change seems written wherever I dwell. 
Since the days of our childhood, Annie Bell. 

'Twas yonder thy father's cottage stood, 
Close by the brookside, close by the wood ; 
The great old barn with roof so tall, 
The old hay-loft above the stall. 
The mossy well, the old stone wall. 
The sanded floor, and the oaken hall. 
Where we danced together in rustic ball, — 
I remember them well — I remember them all. 

And the little porch, with the woodbine bower, 
Whence we could see the old church tower, 
And where for many a twilight hour. 



We listened to the distant knell. 
As on the air it rose and fell, 
Of that familiar old church bell ! 

The little bench beside the door, 
The honeysuckle hanging o'er, 
The pathway leading from the gate. 
Where thou at eventide wouldst wait. 
To greet me when I came ; 
The well-pole swinging high in air, 
The fragrance dwelling everywhere. 
The pear tree with its rustic seat. 
Where I, when sitting at thy feet. 
Had carved thy cherished name ; 

All these, all these come back to me, 

As I stand alone beneath this tree. 

And I can scarce believe that 'tis all a dream 

Of my childhood days, sweet Annie Bell ! 

As over the hill and over the stream, 

I hear the knell of the old church bell ! 

But all are withered, or gone to decay. 
The friends we loved have passed away; 
Deserted the cottage stands as of yore. 
But there's no one to close the open door; 
The lattice is broken and the window-pane. 
The snow drifts in and the driving rain, 
The stars look down through the broken roof, 
And the night bird now keeps not aloof; 



The well-pole is broken and lies on the ground, 
The hedges are trampled and scattered around, 
And all that we cherished and loved so well. 
Has withered, or gone to decay, Annie Bell! 

Oh! Annie Bell! Sweet Annie Bell! 
'Twere better for me had thy funeral knell 
Been tolled upon the old bell 
Ere I left thee for the sea ; 
'Twere better for thee and better for me 
Had I been content with a simple lot, 
With honest toil, and an humble cot ; 
Had I but made thee my honor and fame, 
My world and my fortune, ambition and aim. 
Thy love would have been all these to me ! 

We parted, both with many tears. 

For three long summers, three long years ; 

We parted here beneath this tree. 

Thou to thy chamber, I to the sea ; 

And we both could hear the old church bell, 

As with a melancholy knell. 

It seemed to say, Farewell ! Farewell ! 

I saw thee, bowed with grief, depart. 
With both hands pressed upon thy heart. 
Till my dimmed eyes could see no more. 
And then I hastened to the shore; 
The boat put off with gentle swell, 
The ocean billows rose and fell. 



While faintly came the distant knell, 
Tolling from the old church bell 1 
Farewell ! Farewell ! Sweet Annie Bell ! 

Oh, Annie Bell ! you never knew 

The high resolve which filled my brain, 

As on the deck I stood, while flew 

Our bark like seabird o'er the main ; 

As one by one the sails unfurled, 

I thought it was a manly part 

To forth, and battle with the world, 

To make me worthy of thy heart. 

And so I went, with high intent. 
From continent to continent. 
On manly purpose bent; 
The world was all my field, 
I sailed o'er every sea. 
But Annie was my shield. 
My star of destiny ! 

Oh ! how I toiled in those young years ! 

With what alternate hopes and fears, 

I battled with my fate ; 

I struggled for a single aim, 

I toiled for fortune, worked for fame; 

And with a high and manly pride 

I came to claim thee as a bride. 

I sought thy homestead, Annie Bell, 
The twilight shadows deeper grew; 



I crossed the brook and passed the dell, 
And soon thy cottage came in view; 
But darker grew the twilight shade, 
I now had reached the little gate; 
I waited, for I felt afraid, 
I felt the warning of a fate! 

A light from out thy casement shone, 

I saw another tenant there, — 

Thy mother, Annie, knelt alone. 

Beside thy couch in prayer; 

I crossed the garden, reached the door, 

I summoned with a faltering hand, 

I heard a footstep on the floor. 

Upon the grating sand ; 

It nearer, nearer, nearer came, 

A slow, heartbroken, joyless tread; 

In it I read not of thy shame, 

I only thought thee dead! 



Thy father with a kindly hand. 

Led me adown the little lane ; 

We reached the spot where now I stand. 

With madness in my brain! 

His was the footstep on the floor, 

'Twas he who to the doorway came ; 

And here, where we had stood before, 

He told me, Annie, of thy shame. 



He told me how young Clarence Lee 
(We had been friends in boyish days), 
Had brought great riches from the sea, 
And of his manly, winning ways ; 
And how he talked and sang to thee. 
While thou wouldst more attention lend. 
Because he talked so much of me. 
Because he was my friend; 
And how about two years before, 
For three since parting then had sped. 
There came a message to your door 
That I was dead! 

He told me of thy grief and tears. 
And how young Clarence Lee, 
Because he was my friend for years, 
Was more endeared to thee ; 
And how thy tender heart to his 
Would more and more incline. 
Because you seemed to feel that this 
Was still a link to mine! 

The winter passed, the springtime came, 

Almost forgotten was my name ; 

The roses to thy cheek returned. 

And in thy gentle heart there burned 

A love for Clarence Lee ! 

But not as earnest, not the same 

Contented, angel-lighted flame, 

That you had felt for me ; 

And then thy father's voice grew low. 



He drew my head unto his breast, 

And in a broken voice and low 

He told me all the rest; 

He said the night came on apace, 

Young Clarence Lee had sought his home, 

And Annie, with a troubled face, 

Came to our little room. 

She talked of all her childhood's years, 
She spoke of thee with many tears. 
And kneeling at her mother's feet. 
She said she never knew how sweet 
Her home had always been; 
She placed her hand in mine, and said, 
While on her mother's knee she laid 
Her tearful face serene, 
Tell me, dear parents, were I dead, 
And in the quiet churchyard laid, 
Beside my little brother Ned, 
Whose grave is fresh and green, 
Would you miss me much? When the twi- 
light came 
Would I be always to you the same? 
Would in your prayers be whispered my name, 
Without any sorrow, without any shame? 

Oh, tell me, would Annie be in truth 
A memory still with the dew of youth? 
One of the golden link of three 
Removed to a higher destiny? 



Would you cherish me still as if I were here? 
Love me as fondly, keep me as dear, 
From summer to summer, from year to year? 
Would you leave my chair in the same old 

spot? 
The little table beside the cot? 
The Bible upon it with never a blot 
Of tear when thinking of Annie's lot? 
Would you miss me? Would my memory be 
As dear and as true as yours to me? 

We spoke to her kindly, dried up her tears, 
And tenderly sought to banish her fears ; 
She kissed us more fondly than ever before, 
And asked us to bless her, and said as of yore. 
She would kneel to receive it, a child on the 

floor; 
We blessed her most earnestly, kissed her 

again. 
And raising her lovingly bade her remain, 
But she whispered good-night. 
And stole softly away. 
And we thought that the joy-light 
Would come with the day. 

The morning came ; and we learned it all ! 
It came like a shadow ! It came like a pall ! 
And we thought how wretched she must be. 
The child of our heart ! the joy of our life ! 
Away on the sea with Clarence Lee, 
Not as a maiden, not as a wife I 



Your father paused, and to his home 
We turned with sorrowing tread; 
My heart with grief was overcome, 
I wished that I were dead 1 



My heart was wedded to the place, 
I could not leave it if I would ; 
The changing years came on apace. 
And death within the cottage stood 1 
Thy father, and thy mother too. 
Sleep now beneath the old yew tree, 
'Twere better thus they never knew 
The deeper shame that came to thee ! 

They never knew of the bitter night 
That brings but the hopeless morn ; 
The breaking heart, with smile bedight. 
Nor of the worldling's scorn ; 
They knew not of the maddened brain, 
With the brow so calm and smooth. 
That hides the cankering pain, 
With never a hand to soothe ! 

They knew not of the grief and care. 

Nor the burning secret tears ! 

Nor the yearnings of the heart for prayer. 

Subdued by sinful fears ! 

They knew not this, poor Annie Bell! 

As sped the sorrowing day; 

They never knew of what befell 

14 



The child whom they had loved so well, 
For whom they still did pray ! 

They left your chair in the same old spot, 
The little table beside the cot ; 
They watched the vine with tender care, 
And the flowers still grew as when you were 

there ; 
And for many a day, and many a year, 
They waited, with little of hope to cheer, 
While their eyes grew dim with the secret tear. 

But she never came, and the old yew tree 
Will shadow but two instead of three. 
Oh, Annie Bell ! would that the knell 
Had reached thy heart of that old bell 
Which then their requiem tolled ; 
It might, amidst thy bitter pain. 
Have lured thy spirit back again, 
To those dear chimes of old. 

I cherish thee still, sweet Annie Bell, 

As the girl that I loved, that I loved so well I 

I never think of the grief and the blot 

That blighted thy life, that blighted my lot; 

I only think of the Annie Bell, 

Who wandered with me through valley and 

dell. 
And listened with me to the mournful knell 
That came to our cars of the old church bell ! 
That Annie Bell, whom I loved so well! 



VIOLETS. 

OH ! sweetest and loveliest 
Blossoms of spring! 
A joy to my sorrowing 
Heart ye bring! 

I breathe thy sweet fragrance, 

And in fancy I see 
The dear hand that plucked thee 

Extended to me! 

Oh, fain would I clasp it, 

And press to my heart 
The dearest May flow'ret. 

But our lives are apart. 

Could I hope in the future 

To meet her again. 
The present long parting 

Would give me less pain. 



THE BROOK, THE 5UN AND VIOLET. 

T WANDERED by the brooklet, 
J- A tiny, murmurous stream, 
A babbling little rivulet, — 
This seemed to be its theme. 



Oh ! wake up, little Violet ! 

O waken from your dream, 
Sol has stolen your coverlet, 

'Tis floating down the stream !. 

Then wake up, little Violet! 

Wake, and lift your modest head ! 
Nay, do not fear, my timid pet, 

The cold March winds have fled; 

So wake up, precious Violet! 

And see the April sunshine; 
How can you lie a-dreaming yet. 

This bright spring morn so fine? 

I don't know what your neighbors think. 

That you're so late in bed, 
That Miss Arbutus blushes pink. 

And Checkerberry's red. 

Sol had stolen her coverlet. 
And kissed her while she slept. 

And then so "blue" got Violet 
She bowed her head and wept. 

Poor dreamy little Pansy 

Still bows her lovely head. 
And stifles sobs, I fancy. 

And seldom leaves her bed. 



ir 



But the merry, babbling brook 

Still dashes gaily on, 
Nor heeds her grief, or downcast look, 

That same resplendent sun. 



LLr5 GO TO GRANDPA'5. 

LET'S go to grandpa's, "I and you," 
We'll find some plums, and peaches too, 
In the orchard over yonder. 
And nicest pears you ever ate ! 
On that old pear tree by the gate. 
Come, what boy would stop to ponder? 

Out in the woodshed we will climb 
Far overhead, and we shall find 
Luscious butternuts, — we'll crack some. 
And grandpa'll say now take some home, 
And grandma'll say she's glad we come. 

We'll search for eggs the old hay-loft, 
I know the way, I've been there oft. 
And I remember very well 
The well-pole, and the mossy well ; 
The daisied hill, the violet dell, 
And, best of all, the rippling rill 
As it comes dashing down the hill. 

Across the bridge and up the hill. 

The old red schoolhouse stands there still, 

i8 



Where first I lisped my ABC; 
The "teacher" even now I see, 
A very queen she seemed to me. 



The sheep-fold by the long old barn, 
The corn-crib and the yellow corn, 
The cockerel's crow in early morn. 
The bleating sheep, / saw them shorn! 

Yes ! and the ugly sheep-shears, too ! 
Far, far above my head they figure ; 
I climbed to reach them and on tip-toe 
Barely touched them with my finger. 

And down they came, and down I fell ! 
They pierced my palm, my piercing yell 
You might have heard — the scar's there still ! 
Climb there again? my grandma said, 
No! grandma, dear ! I never will! 

She did not see how my hand bled. 
And sent me all alone to bed ; 
But when she saw the ugly wound. 
She bathed, and bound it all around. 
Then kissed me sweet, and rocked me till 
I fell asleep and knew no ill. 



TO MY BOY. 

YES, I will "write a verse" for you, 
That you "may always keep," 
And every word shall be "quite true," 

If you will go to sleep ; 
Now kiss mamma good-night, 

And turn that way and close your eyes 
Until the morning light, 

And in the morning when you rise 
I'll read you what I write. 



MOTHLR'5 COUNSEL. 

>^ I ^WAS an evening in December, 

-I- That you, my child, first saw the light ; 

Keen the blasts of wintry weather. 
Yet within the fires were bright; 

Anxious hearts were then made lighter, 
When you ope'd your clear blue eyes, 

And we thought no angel brighter 
Ever was in paradise ! 

Seven years have swift sped o'er you. 

Seven years of love's caresses ; 
And each year more dear we hold you. 

With each day our love increases. 



My dear boy, anon what will you 
When you are grown to be a man? 

Be ever loyal, kind and true. 

Relieve distress whene'er you can. 

Make others happy while you may — 
Kind words and deeds cast sunny rays. 

Which will reflect in darksome days — 
May truth and honor with you stay. 

Walk in the narrow path alway. 
Say to vile tempters "get behind," 

Be useful ever while you may. 
Let every virtue be enshrined 

Within God's temple ever! 

This wondrous body He has planned. 
Is not your own, but His remember! 

As well as the immortal mind ! 

And then, forsooth, must do His will, 
Though it be not your own, my child. 

And sweet contentment ever will 

Be yours, my boy, and God the while 

Will bless your efforts every time. 
When for His glory they're put forth ; 

I pray you ne'er look on the wine ! 

Nor curse the hour that gave you birth. 



Poison it hath for all who taste, 
And I would warn you, touch it not! 

For all of life it turns to waste i 
What more degraded than a sot? 

"Look not on wine when it is red !" 
I pray you'll not forget these words ! 

Full often you have heard them said, 
I'd rather hear your funeral dirge, 

Than you should feel its curse, my child. 

Your mother's heart could not endure ! 
The thought e'en now near drives me wild! 

From all such vice, God keep you pure ! 

God saith no drunkard shall inherit 
The kingdom of our Saviour's love; 

My child, so live that you may merit 
A home at last with Him above ! 

While others' hearts you will make glad. 
May yours be light, and seldom sad. 

For time misspent, nor labor lost, 
Whene'er you purchase, count the cost. 

And then, my boy, know well your purse. 

Thus shall it not be empty ; 
If you have riches, oft disburse 

From out your stores of plenty. 



Nor turn God's hungry child away, 
Ere you Hsten to his story ; 

Riches take wings and fly away, 
Yet you may be with Him in glory ! 



5WIFTLY COML5 THE NIGHT. 

UX T 7HATEVER thy hand may find to do, 

VV That do with thy whole might;" 
For the sun will set and day decline, 
And swiftly comes the night, 

"Wherein no man can work;" 

Gird on thy armor bright, 
For the sun will set and day decline. 

And swiftly comes the night. 

"Work while it is called to-day," 

And keep thy garments white ; 
For the sun will set and day decline. 

And swiftly comes the night. 

Morn will break, and we shall stray 

In the golden city of light ; 
The day will dawn and the sun will shine ! 

And there'll be no more night. 



as 



THE GOLDEN RULE. 

NOW while you are away at school, 
Remember well that Golden Rule, 
"Do unto others as you would 
That they should do to you." 
And you will be the noblest man, 
The kindest and most true, 
(For I declare no other man 
Upon the earth does this), 
And thus you will all men excel. 
And please a loving mother well. 
Now give to me your sweetest kiss. 



DELAYED BY 5TORM. 

OH ! 'tis a drear and doleful night. 
And sifting, drifting everywhere, 
The mantling snow-like shroud of white. 
Drapes mother earth so cold and fair. 

Softly it veils my window light. 

And deeper draws the shadowing gloom, 
That hangs its curtains this bleak night. 

Around my melancholy room. 

Oh ! wailing winds, with me ye moan. 
In sobbing voice a soulful grief, 

With thee to-night I would have flown 
To seek afar my soul's relief. 



Canst thou not find some balm to bless 
An aching heart? Ah, no, 'tis vain. 

For what is life but weariness. 

When love is turned to doubt and pain? 

:): :tc H< :(: He * 4t 

A message ? see, he brings to me ! 

Why has it been detained so long? 
It should have been here days ago, 

"Delayed by storm" — there's nothing wrong. 

No more the sighing winds bewail, 
But notes of joy they waft to me ! 

And fairy whispers on the gale, 

That sweeps the snow-clad hill and lea, 

That tell me, love, thou constant art. 

That I am all in all to thee ! 
The gloom is lifted from my heart. 

The wintry night is fair to see ! 

THE HEAVENLY VI5ION. 

I STROLLED one day in despondent mood, 
To the banks of the mystical river, 
Lonely beside the dark water I stood, 
In a dream of the far forever. 

Nor pen of the poet, nor tongue can tell. 
And never an eye of mortal descries. 

The beauty and grandeur of hill and dell, 
Beyond the dark river in paradise. 



No field so green, nor flowers so fair, 

Joyously flitted the song birds of spring, 

Yet no winged angels I saw in mid-air. 

And only the birds were wearing their 
wings. 

Bright, sparkling streams rippled merrily 
through 

Greenest of meadows, 'neath skies of blue. 
And the friends were there I had longed to see, 

And loved ones dear were beckoning me. 

Slowly my feet went down to the water. 
Swiftly my body was borne along. 

Music of winds, and the white spray's laughter. 
Lulled me to rest like a lullaby song. 

Rocked in a cradle, with fragrance from shore- 
land. 

Borne to my senses, one day I would go. 
Back to old earth to tell the dear homeband 

How pleasant the journey they all dread so. 

Tossing and swaying through midnight dark- 
ness. 

Peaceful and fearless, for heaven was near, 
Alas ! for the vision of heavenly brightness, 

Voices of earth wafted back on my ear I 

Lost are the strains of melodies holy ! 

And where is the river? Alas ! cruel fate! 
Ill in my bed, and my vision meant only 

An overdose of an opiate. 

26 



LIVE OUT YOUR LIFE. 

AS I had nearly reached the crown 
Of the wearisome hill of the journey of 
life, 
I met a woman coming down — 
A woman weary with earth's strife. 

Her form was tall and stately, 
And her step was quick and light, 

Her hair above a brow of beauty 
Was soft and silvery white. 

Her eyes soft brown, yet strangely bright, 
And finely chiseled every feature; 

Her skin was pale as roses white. 
Indeed was she a queenly creature. 

"Good friend," said she, ''oh ! Fm in haste 
To leave this world of pain, and go ; 

No joys I find, but grief I taste. 

While traveling through this vale of woe. 

"My boys so dear, I love them still ! 

The bitter tears when they were ill 
They know not of, the sleepless night, 
The hopeless day, no ray of light, 

The tearful prayers till they were well. 

"Ah ! no, my boys can never know 

The troubled heart that toiled for them ; 

They oft fill up my cup of woe 
E'en to its overflowing brim. 



"But I forgive. Oh, yes, forgive! 

They are my all! I love them still! 
But why should I yet longer live? 

I leave to them my last good will." 

Dear friend, said I, Oh ! say not so, 
Some day your boys will come to you. 

And beg their mothers' pardon, too. 
And ask of mother what to do ; 

What to make your life more sunny, 
Your declining years more bright; 

Naught could make their own more happy 
Than to make your sad heart light. 

They will make your life more peaceful, 
And will make their own more pure; 

They will change the wrong to rightful. 
Then your life you may endure. 

Your wayward sons have loving hearts. 
Oh ! might they prove to you e'en now. 

Ere death shall call you to depart, 

Their love make light your heaviest woe. 

Love may lie dormant for awhile. 
Yet well I know they love you still ; 

Though other loves these hours beguile. 
Yet bide your time and wait their will. 



"Brothers and sisters all are gone 1 
My husband in his grave lies low, 

Left in this cold world all alone ! 
Not one is left to cheer me now. 

"No mother could be more devoted ! 

Yet children dear do me forsake; 
Death has bereft me of my kindred, 

Oh! why should not my poor heart break?" 

Well, weeping mother, there's a way, 
When words all fail to cheer you. 

Your lips have long been used to pray. 
Go ask of Jesus, He will guide you. 

"Every cloud has a silver lining," 
Go seek for those with greater ill, 

And cease, I pray, this vain repining, 
Live out your life, and do God's will ! 



VALEDICTORY. 

CLASSMATES, I fail to find a reason, 
Why so inaptly you have chosen 
One to deliver an oration, 
Not in my line, 
I should decline 
To speak on this occasion. 



A friend has urged me on, 

I know not her intention, 

But said to her (I beg your pardon). 

If you will write, 

I will recite. 
And this is her production. 

In college halls for weary days 

By learned professors taught. 

And knowledge gained in various ways, 

Long nights to pore 

O'er books galore, 
Thus for diplomas wrought. 

Our paths diverge, some may not meet 

Until we reach the golden gate. 

Yet we fain would stay our hurrying feet. 

Give care a toss, 

Nor count it loss, 
A college friend to greet. 

Though some may seek a foreign land. 

Afar across the rolling sea. 

We will pledge to each and give the hand 

Of friendship pure. 

Which shall endure. 
Through all eternity. 

On memory's page inscribed for aye. 
Each friendly face shall be, 

20 



And it matters not how far away, 

On sea or land, 

A loyal band, 
Our watchword is fidelity. 

While some may fickle fortune gain, 
Some glory and renown. 
Remember, life's no lottery game. 

But deeds of love, 

Divinest love, 
Shine brightest in our crown. 

Relief of poor humanity. 
Shall be our highest aim, 
Kind deeds of love, and charity. 

And yet you see 

That little fee. 
No doctor may disclaim. 

While floating down the river of life. 
Through paths of love, and joy, and strife. 
As the years roll on we may not forget 

The days of toil. 

The midnight oil. 
Or college days regret. 

Teachers, and classmates, all adieu I 

Each must his chosen path pursue. 

Would I could strew each path with flowers. 

But thorns will grow 

Where roses blow, 
Not paths of ease are ours. 

ji 



When we are called to beds of pain, 

Of suffering and distress, 

May He, the great Physician, deig^, 

To scenes of woe. 

With us to go, 
Our efforts there to bless. 



VANITY AND VEXATION. 

FATHER, sorely vexed am I, 
Over this perplexity, 
That all we see is but a lie ! 
And all of earth is vanity ! 

If I could win myself a name. 
That would endure eternity. 

Could win such honor ! and such fame ! 
Yet all of these are vanity ! 

Ambitious soul with longings rife. 
So full of hopes and trembling fears. 

Tell me what profit then is life? 

If names live not a "thousand years"? 

Success affords brief satisfaction. 
But ill repays the anxious strife, 

A mind too often near distraction. 
Can but envy those content with life. 

Is man no better than a fly, 
To be forgot when he shall die? 



33 



And is then all we see a lie? 
Deceitful phantoms flitting by? 

Oh, is it then the end of all, 

To die, to die, and be forgot? 
Like as the autumn leaves that fall? 

If this be true, O tell me not ! 

No wonder then the wise old king, 
When vexed with this perplexity. 

Exclaimed with grief this very thing. 
That all he saw was vanity ! 

No wonder that he wished to die. 
Or that he never had been born. 

If all he saw was but a lie. 

How vain the pomp of Solomon ! 

Is there a world? an earth? and sky? 

And would'st thou fain be wise as God ? 
That all's a lie's an olden cry. 

Of Buddha, long centuries 'neath the sod ! 

In God's own time all mysteries. 

Revealed to us shall be. 
These harrowing doubts and phantasies, 

Will bring thy soul but misery. 

Be child-like in simplicity, 

"That choicest shield 'gainst lunacy," 
Clothed ever with humility, 

Trust thou in God implicitly! 

33 



Press thou still onward hopefully, 
Perform thy duties faithfully, 

Encourage others cheerfully. 
And fight life's battles manfully ! 

Withstand temptations bravely, 
Lift up the fallen tenderly, 

Following thy Saviour meekly. 
Look unto Him continually 1 

Implore His blessings prayerfully ! 

Receive them ever gratefully ! 
Thou shalt be saved eventually. 

And sing God's praise eternally! 

Thy name enrolled immortally, 
In God's own chosen family! 



MORE LOVE, MY LOVE! 

OH ! what shall make the world complete ? 
More love, my love, more love. 
Oh ! what shall make the earth compete 
With heaven above? my dove. 
More love, my love, more love ! 

Oh! what shall make our lives more sweet? 

More love, my love, more love, 
And take us where the loved ones meet 

In heaven above, my dove? 

More love, my love, more love ! 



34 



FLOWLR5 OF MAY. 

SEND me, I pray, some flowers of May, 
Some trailing Arbutus from home ; 
With message from you, and loving hearts 
true. 
Who sorrow because I must roam. 

Oh ! send me, pray, some flowers of May, 
The dearest child treasures of yore ! 

Sweet tokens of earth from land of my birth, 
I long to behold them once more ! 

Send me, I pray, some flowers of May, 
Sweet souvenir of blissful hours ! 

Oh ! I loved them well, with their tint of shell, 
These children of April showers ! 

Oh ! send me, pray, some flowers of May, 
From the forests of childhood's home ; 

Their beauty would cheer, when lonely and 
drear, 
I'm dreaming of days that have flown. 

Send me, I pray, some flowers of May, 
I'd breathe their sweet fragrance again ; 

Then place on my breast and lay me to rest, 
Forgetting all sorrow and pain ! 

Oh ! send me, pray, some flowers of May, 
From tangled wilds or sunny dell, 

Oh ! hie thee away, some bright April day 1 
For the flowers I love so well ! 



35 



Send me, I pray, some flowers of May, 
Some trailing Arbutus from home ; 

My heart is still there, and weary with care, 
Oh ! why was I tempted to roam ? 



ARBUTU5 FROM CHILDHOOD'5 HOML. 

SWEET blossoms from a far-off dell, 
Full well ye bring to mind the scenes 
Of happy childhood's gladsome spell, 
And sweeter still my youthful dreams ! 

Once more in fancy now I roam 

Through field and leafy forest there, 

And beaten paths about my home, 

With heart so light and free from care ! 

By grand old rocks and lichens gray. 
Are grassy mounds of velvet moss, 

And berries red grow there to-day, 

With leaves of green and waxen gloss ; 

More fair than all on earth, I ween. 
Thy mossy rocks and granite hills ! 

Thy pastures fair and meadows green. 
Thy placid streams and dancing rills ! 

Farewell ! farewell ! old home, farewell ! 

Yet I shall see thee in my dreams. 
Thy every hill and rock and dell, 

Thy rivers broad and gushing streams ! 

36 



Yes, every tree my childhood knew, 
And sunny bank and tangled bowers. 

These pearly blossoms wet with dew, 

Bring back to me youth's vanished hours ! 

OH! MELT ML IN THE VALLEY. 

OH ! meet me in the valley. 
Where the laughing brook flows nigh, 
Where oft we've strolled so gaily. 
In happy days gone by. 

Come back, come back, my Harry, 

Oh ! come, love, back to me ! 
And together we'll be merry, 
I love none else but thee !, 

Oh ! I am weary, darling, 

All the wretched, live-long day. 

Life's joys are past recalling. 
And sorrow is holding sway. 
Come back, etc. 

Oh ! I am weary waiting. 

All the long and lonesome day. 
For while I wait his coming, 

My lover is far away ! 
Come back, etc. 

Down in the lonely valley. 

Where the pines and willows wave, 
Lies now the form of Allie, 

In the dark and silent grave. 

3; 



LOST LORLNL. 

LORENE, I have crossed the water. 
And thy face no more shall see, 
Thou art wedded to another, 
Lost forevermore to me. 

In my mem'ry thou art ever. 

Fondly cherished thou hast been ; 

Thee forget? my soul can never! 
Though the ocean roll between ! 

'Twas his glitt'ring gold that won thee. 
Give him kindness for his love. 

And loyal be, though false to me. 
Still my heart will faithful prove ! 

Lost thou art to me forever !, 

Would it were a transient dream, 

Thou art wedded to another. 
Fair, and faithless, lost Lorene ! 



1 MI55 ONE FOND CARL55. 

ONE kind and loving word to hear 
From that dear voice I've loved so well, 
To clasp once more the hand so dear. 
The joyful rapture who can tell? 
I miss one fond caress. 
My troubled spirit knows no rest. 
For oh ! I miss one fond caress ! 



38 



Oh ! none but they who've loved as I, 
Know well the pain and weariness, 
The stifled sigh, and tearless eye. 
As to the heart the grief is pressed. 
I miss one fond caress. 
My troubled spirit knows no rest, 
For oh ! I miss one fond caress ! 

Why should we part? when we have loved 

Through pain and pleasures manifold, 
Yet life is short, and may we prove, 

How hearts like ours will ne'er grow cold. 
I miss one fond caress. 
My troubled spirit knows no rest, 
For oh ! I miss one fond caress ! 



FARLWLLL, LUDLOW. 

MY last day in Ludlow; 
And my heart is full of sadness. 
That I so very soon must go 

From friends I've met with gladness. 

Three weeks have nearly sped away 
Since you gave me kindly welcome, 

And yet a week seems scarce a day. 
And I must seek my city home. 

T have seen your lovely meadows, 

Mine eyes have spanned your lofty hills, 



3Q 



'Tween which Black River onward flows, 
Its water clear as crystal rills. 

I have climbed this daisied hill-slope, 
And 'neath these poplars, sitting down, 

Indite to you my farewell note, 
The while I gaze on Ludlow town. 

I must take with me some trophy, 
From summit of this lofty hill, 

To my distant home now lonely, 
A pebble from the dancing rill, 

A bit of green and handsome moss. 
And I will cherish them with care, 

And when I see their green and gloss. 
Remember Ludlow grrand and fair ! 



?3' 



Rocks, and hills, and murmuring rill, 
I may never more behold you. 

But I shall love you, love you still ! 
Sweetest rest and solace have you ! 

And I shall long to hie me here. 

But oh ! some cruel fate may sever 

These earthly ties, however dear, 
Yet shall I forget thee never! 

Kind father and mother. 

So faithful, so true. 
Too soon I must bid you 

A loving adieu ! 

40 



Dear sister and brother, 

Farewell 1 Oh, farewell ! 
The future's before us. 

But, ah! who can tell? 

Many fall by the way, 

While few will succeed. 
Oh ! I pray the Lord may 

The wanderer lead ! 

To his Green Mountain home. 

To friends who would bless. 
Where his restless spirit. 

May find sweetest rest ! 

BURNING THL LLTTLR5. 

WELL, I have at last prepared them, 
Letters loving^, kind and true, 
All the day I have perused them, 
And all day I've thought of you. 

Now to the flames must I consign them? 

That no other eyes may read, 
Oh ! can I, must I, part with them ? 

Precious words are they, indeed ! 

Every word of loving kindness. 

Burns in memory for aye ! 
From one true heart my own to bless, 

Can I cast them all away? 



41 



Hungry flames impatient leaping, 
Sweeter morsel ne'er had they ! 

And my breaking heart is pleading, 
Nay ! I cannot, love, to-day ! 

Take my letters, and I charge thee, 
Cherish them most carefully! 

They are all on earth that's left me ! 
Yet I yield them trustingly ; 

Knowing thou wouldst not betray me, 
Guard my treasures tenderly ! 

For the sake of one who loves me, 
Loves me well, and faithfully. 



TWA5 GRILF AND CARL. 

LET me smooth the lines, dear mother. 
That cross your forehead fair, 
'Twas grief and care that brought them there, 
And silvered your brown hair. 

Oh ! well do I remember, dear, 

When I was young and wild. 
You soothed the grief and dried the tear 

Of your proud and wayward child. 

I saw you oft in dreams, mother, 
When grief had driven me wild ! 

And you soothed the anguish bitter, 
Of your poor, despairing child. 



43 



Let me smooth the Hnes, dear mother, 

That cross your forehead fair; 
'Twas grief and care that brought them there, 

And silvered your brown hair. 



MY MOTHLR'5 GRAVL. 

OH ! no, I cannot go with you, 
My mother's grave detains me here ; 
You may be faithful, kind, and true, 
My mother's grave I'll linger near. 

Ah ! no, I cannot go with you ; 

Forgive, I pray, my mother dear 
Would not forsake her child, you know, 

And by her grave I'll linger near. 

I cannot go with you, ah, no ! 

To her sweet memory I'll prove true ; 
On this dear spot still fall my tears. 

And by her grave I'll linger near. 



5 AY YOU LOVL ML. 

DO you love me, Leila darling? 
Then tell me so right here; 
The moon, my dear, is hiding, 

And not a soul is near. 
Oh, dearest ! say you love mc, 
I'll woo none else but thee! 



43 



Do you love me, Leila darling? 

Say yes, and do not fear, 
My love shall be abiding. 

Oh, why that pearly tear? 
Oh, fairest! say you love me, 

I'll woo none else but thee ! 

Do you love me, Leila darling? 

Then trust me without fear, 
Nor heed the ''gipsy warning," 

I will be true, my dear! 
Oh, Leila ! say you love me, 

ril woo none else but thee ! 



THL OLDLN STORY. 

/^~^OME, O brother, I entreat you! 
^--^ A despairing sister calls; 
Come once more, she longs to greet you. 
Oh ! sustain her lest she fall ! 

She was once your little playmate. 

She's your loving sister yet; 
Oh, let not your love turn hate ! 

How can you so soon forget? 

She has caused you "grief and sorrow. 
And disgraced an honored name;" 

She may perish on the morrow. 
Oh ! forgive the sin and shame. 



44 



She it is must bear the sorrow, 

And the pain through all the years ; 

And such grief her soul will harrow, 
Soothe her sorrow, calm her fears. 

'Tis the old, the olden story. 
Woman trusteth, man betrays ; 

She must grieve, while he may glory, 
He the sacrifice repays. 

By forsaking in her sorrow. 

Can she meet the worldling's gaze? 
Or the loved ones in the home-nest? 

Ere the sunrise on the morrow. 
To the brother comes request : 

"I am dying, O my brother! 

Come and take my last good-bye ; 
Take this message to my mother. 

Do not grieve because I die. 

"Oh, forgive me, dearest brother ! 

This rash act, and him I love, 
Leave all vengeance to our Maker, 

'It is mine,' saith God above!" 



45 



FAREWELL, ALL SO DEAR. 

FAREWELL! brothers, I must leave you, 
Far in foreign lands to dwell, 
I had hoped once more to greet you. 
But ''He doeth all things well." 

Farewell ! sisters, I have loved you. 

Oh ! how dearly none can tell ! 
And it breaks my heart to leave you ! 

Can I, must I, say farewell? 

Farewell, mother, I shall meet you 

In that land among the blest, 
''Where the wicked cease from troubling, 

And the weary are at rest!" 

I had hoped to linger near you. 

As adown life's path you go. 
And the thought that you will miss me, 

Adds unto my weight of woe ! 

I had found my life so dreary, 

In my far-off, lonely home, 
My poor heart was always weary 

Sighing for my childhood's home ! 

But I never more shall see her, 

Never more on earth shall see 
Home of childhood, and my mother. 

Farewell ! all so dear to me ! 



46 



DOL5 HL CARL? 

MAY heaven forbid, O Hattie dear, 
That I should shake thy faith in prayer ; 
Thorny the road that thou hast trod, 
And yet, forsooth, thy faith in God 
Dost help thee bear the ''chastening rod." 

May He be ever to thee near, 
Wipe from thine eyes the bitter tear. 
And since my sorrow's kin to thine. 
Teach me thy faith, O friend of mine ! 

For years, long, sad and sorrowing years, 
I've struggled with alternate fears. 
Against a sad, unhappy fate. 
Yet now I know 'tis all too late ! 

I've prayed to God as fervently 
As mortal ever prayed to Him ; 
I've labored, too, as faithfully, 
The while to crush besetting sin. 

Whatever I have left undone. 
Kind heaven, teach me now to do ; 
Whate'er shall crush the curse of rum 
Must be invented, something new. 

For woman's prayers do naught avail 
In this direction, I am sure ; 
Women and children weep and wail, 
God pity them and keep them pure. 

47 



No joy on earth the drunkard's wife 
Can ever know, but care and strife, 
Hope for a day, a week, or year. 
Still anxious care, suspense, and fear, 

Haunts every step, destroys her peace, 
Her soul can never know release. 
Though oft niayst find on bended knees 
One who would give her life to please. 

For him she loves, for whom she prays. 
Through weary nights, and sorrowing days ; 
Where is the God who answers prayer? 
Does He not hear? does He not care? 



"HL CARLTH." 

tiAT /HAT can it mean? Is it aught to 

VV Him 
That the nights are long, and the days are 

dim? 
Can He be touched by the griefs I bear, 
Which sadden the heart and whiten the hair? 

"Around His throne are eternal calms. 
And glad, strong music of happy psalms, 
And bliss unrufifled by any strife ; 
How can He care for my little life? 

48 



"And yet I want Him to care for me, 
While I live in this world where the sor- 
rows be; 
When the lights are down from the path I take ; 
When strength is feeble and friends forsake; 

"When love and music that once did bless, 
Have left me to silence and loneliness ; 
And my life changes to sobbing prayers, 
When my heart cries out to a God who cares. 

"When shadows hang o'er me the whole day 

long. 
And my spirit is bowed 'neath shame and 

wrong ; 
When I am not good, and the deepening shade 
Of conscious sin makes my heart afraid ; 

"And the busy world has too much to do 
To stay in its course to help me through. 
And I long for a Saviour, can it be 
That the God of the universe cares for me? 

"Oh ! wonderful story of deathless love ! 
Each child is dear to the heart above ; 
He fights for me when I cannot fight, 
He comforts me in the gloom of night. 

"He lifts the burden, for He is strong. 
He stills the sigh, and awakens the song; 
The burdens that bow me down He bears, 
And loves and pardons, because He cares. 

49 



"Oh, all that are sad take heart again ! 
You are not alone in your hour of pain ; 
The Father stoops from His throne above 
To soothe and comfort us with His love. 

"He leaves us not when the storms beat high, 
And we have safety, for He is nigh, 
Can it be trouble when He doth share? 
Oh ! rest in peace, for your Lord does care !" 



HOMLLL55. 

WE are homeless on the morrow. 
And I know it all too well ; 
And my heart is filled with sorrow. 
Such as never tongue could tell ! 

And yet, my darling child sleeps on, 
Sleep, so peaceful and so calm, 

Dreaming, it may be, it may be. 
Of a bright and sunny dawn ! 

Sleep on, sleep on, my own sweet child ! 

For the morrow comes too soon ! 
For thee, my babe, my brain is wild ! 

In heaven there may be room ! 

Oh ! sleep, my darling baby, sleep ; 

Thou may'st never wake to weep ! 
Pitying angels vigils keep. 

While the shadows darkly creep ! 

so 



We are homeless on the morrow, 

And I know it all too well ! 
And my heart is filled with sorrow ! 

Such as never tongue could tell ! 

THE LORD 15 MY 5HLPHLRD, 1 5HALL 

NOT WANT." 

HOMELESS and friendless, 
Penniless withal, 
Verily not where to lay my head — 
But the kind Shepherd 
They say f eedeth all ; 
Then for to-morrow 
I shall have not a dread, 
For His stores they are plenty. 
And I shall be fed 
From the good Shepherd's bounty. 

Where are the stewards 
Should deal us the food? 
They've skipped the poor ewe, 
And the wee lambs, too; 
The old bucks gobbled 
Too much for their good, 
For they're bloated and gouty. 
And that is too true ; 
From the stores that are plenty. 
They've robbed the poor ewe, 
Of the good Shepherd's bounty. 

SI 



Richest viands so fine, 

And the choicest of wine, 

Are poured down the throat 

Of the old buck that's gouty, 

While the lambs and ewe goat. 

Are pining for milk 

From the good Shepherd's bounty. 



NOT WHERE TO LAY MY HEAD. 

VERILY, this night, O Father, 
I have not where to lay my head ; 
In this land I am a stranger, 
Have I not the ''hungry fed" ? 

''Clothed the naked" in distress? 

Freely giv&n to those in want ; 
Striven hard to cheer and bless. 

For the poor my hands have wrought ; 

Smoothed the pillow of the dying, 

While they breathed their latest breath, 

When the soul was upward soaring, 
Closed the sightless eyes in death; 

To orphan babes have been a mother. 

Giving them a mother's care; 
To the aged been a daughter, 

Smoothing oft the silv'ry hair. 

S2 



Of some weary, care-worn mother, 
Thinking that some day might I 

Long for loving words of kindness, 
Ere I lay me down to die ; 

Little thought I then, ah ! never ! 

This wild grief would come to me, 
To my darling child must answer, 

I have naught to give to thee I 



CRIME OF POVERTY. 

BUT Satan now provides a way! 
My child no longer want shall know ; 
He shall have plenty every day, 
Though I am sunk in deepest woe ! 

O ! give me wine ! I must be gay ! 

All shade of sorrow chase away ; 
My night to-day, my day to-night! 

Farewell to paths of virtue bright ! 

No friend have I in this vast city; 

Was woman planned for final loss? 
How great thy crime, poverty] 

Too true it is, all earth is dross! 

Oh ! nay, nay, nay, I will not stain 

My soul! Your proffered gold I spurn! 

An honored name I still retain. 

Oh! where can wretched woman turn? 



Si 



My boy, so fair, so frail is he, 
He cannot live in poverty! 

O Father! where can succor be? 
Dost Thou not heed our misery? 



5LQULL TO CRIME OF POVERTY. 

U 1\ yr Y darling, do not cry to-day, 
i- V X Just go to sleep now, if you can. 

And I will not be long away, 

I'll bring you something, little man." 

Then choking grief forbids more words. 
And frantic woman wanders forth ! 

Where will she find the food? for worlds 
She dare not beg, lest they be wroth. 

And forthwith order her arrest; 

Father in heaven ! must I steal? 
Her quick eye glances down her dress. 

The faded thing might buy one meal, 

And yet it is the last one left. 

Her child is starving! she is wild! 

Grief has of reason her bereft ! 

From off her shivering form the while 
She madly strips the faded dress ; 

54 



Nor heeds she that young demon crowd, 
So close upon her now they press, 

They hoot and yell with voices loud ! 
And mocking jeers at her distress ! 

A brave ( ?) policeman on the spot, 
With more of muscle than of sense. 

That scene will never be forgot ! 

He dragged that wretched woman hence. 

He left that mob to kill the next! 

Alas! why did they not kill her? 
He thrust her ''in" on some pretext, 

Oh ! pity that poor child and her ! 

All that long night, till morning light. 
So plaintively that woman cried, 

"My child ! my babe ! God spare his life !'* 
Implored him from that mob to hide ! 

The morning came, they brought for her 
Such breakfast as the place affords; 

Unlocked the heavy prison door. 
And found her dead upon the floor! 

Next day, the child, too, was brought in. 
They found him starved! — "he had no kin;" 

"His mother left the day before 

To bring him food — was seen no more!" 



55 



GO 5LLK THL L05T. 

GO ye whose coffers are well filled, 
And seek the broken hearted ! 
Speak unto them words of good will, 
Assure them all have not deserted. 

Though from the straight and narrow path 

Too many far have strayed ; 
Look not, O man, on such in wrath ; 

Of thine own sin be thou afraid! 

(Remember, Jesus Christ forgave.) 

Many the lost would make amends, 
In happy homes with loving friends, 

Had they but one in all the world, 
To lend them aid, and many would. 

Could they but know the inner life, 
The anxious care, the grief, the strife, 

Of many lost to all that's dear! 

O woman, pause ! mayst shed one tear. 
If thou forsooth canst do no more. 
Think of the child whom you adore ! 

And were she brought to grief like this, 
Couldst thou then close and bar thy door? 

For one false step she made amiss. 
Must she be cursed forevermore? 



S6 



so NOW I GO TO HIM. 

MOTHER, dear, your letter loving, 
Reached my hand this very morning ; 
And in haste the seal I broke ; 

Kind words cheered a heart near broken, 
Fanned the smould'ring spark of hope. 
Like a blessing had been spoken. 

Mother, your kindly words of counsel, 
I will at" once prepare me to obey; 

I only waited for some friendly angel 
To bid me go, now I'll away; 

Let your gentle prayers go with me, mother, 
On my journey night and day. 

Oh, will he kindly greet us. 

If I meet him with the child? 
If he should not, O heaven help us ! 

The thought, O mother, drives me wild. 

His thin white face, his blue eyes mild, 
Why, they would melt a heart of stone ! 

You know he dearly loved the child. 
And often we have heard him moan. 

Our darling lay so very ill, 

And we had feared that he might die, 
When all was breathless, hushed and still, 

I've heard my husband's stifled cry. 



57 



Mother, he says he wants me there, 
And writes the same to you ; 

That I shall no more sorrow bear, 
That he will prove his promise true. 

And so I think he will be glad. 
When he shall find us there, 

If he is not, J shall go mad, 
Or sink in dire despair. 

And, mother, when I greet your son, 

Your loved one far away. 
Your message I will give to him, 

So send it now straightway ; 

A mother's love and blessing, 

A mother's hopes and fears. 
Of how her son's progressing. 

And of her prayers and tears ; 

She would once more her boy caress, 

Oh ! that return he might ! 
She prays that God above will bless. 

From morn till weary night ; 

That angels may watch over him, 

Lead him in paths of right, 
From sinful bondage him release, 

Give unto him ''God's perfect peace!" 

S8 



And, mother dear, when we are there, 
I surely then will write to you, 

For well I know your anxious care. 
And much I hope to send good news; 

A letter long, filled to the brim. 

With love to all, and much from him. 

And about the long and tiresome ride, 
Away to the wild, far-distant west, 

Across the prairies vast and wide. 

And where we hope to find sweet rest. 

You will pray for us, dear mother. 

And father will, I know; 
And we may bring back your son, mother, 

Ere another winter's snow; 

And I know you will all forgive. 

Forget the clouded past ; 
And all our friends will him receive. 

With open arms at last! 



RLJLCTLD WIFE. 

OH ! you noisy canary, 
Screaming over my head, 
Are you mocking at misery 
Of which you've no dread? 
All night have I wept ! 
And all day must I moan, 



5Q 



Through all the long hours, 
Lone vigils I've kept. 
For Fm now all alone! 
And while others have slept 
The darkening cloud lowers, 
There's no "lining of silver," 
For life is too hitter! 
For me all alone ! 
Henceforth and forever 
Alone! all alone! 
All my joys now are swept 
From off the cold earth I 
The dark, dreary earth ! 
And through all the days, 
Weary days have I wept ! 
Sorrowing always. 
And weeping for aye ! 
And cursing forever 
The hour of my birth ! 
My grief is too hitter! 
Too hitter to tell! 
No language expresseth 
The grief of my soul! 
For beneath the high heaven 
Or above the deep hell ! 
There is no rest nor haven 
For my grief-stricken soul ! 
Oh! welcome then death! 
I would not live longer. 
Nay, cannot! 

60 



For life is a torture ! 

God ! my Creator ! 
Forgive, thou, I pray, 
The soul of the traitor, 
The heart now is broken, 
Which oft bleeding and sore. 
Would gladly have given 

Its life blood for him ; 
Forgive, thou, O Saviour ! 
His every sin, 
To the home of the blest 
Oh, receive him at last ! 

1 have suffered, O Father, 
What no tongue can tell! 
And now and forever 
Ask only to rest. 

Oh! let me go 

To my rest in the tomb ! 

No sorrow nor woe 

To that haven can come ! 

Oh! mother earth 

Take thou thy child 

Within thy sheltering arms. 

Life has no worth, 

The world no charms ; 

My tortured brain 

Finds no relief 

From the cankering pain. 

And the maddening grief! 



6i 



BROKEN HLARTLD. 

MOTHER, dear, my heart was breaking ! 
I could not write to you, 
When I found we were forsaken, 
For, oh ! indeed, this was too true ! 

I sat and wept, and wept all day, 

And sobbed the night out, too ! 
From home and friends so far away. 

Oh ! mother dear, what could I do ? 

If now, this morning I might say. 

Well, it is past and gone. 
But it will never pass with me ! 

My days are tears, my nights are moans. 

What now has earth for me in store 

But sorrow, pain and grief? 
The sun will shine for me no more ! 

And scalding tears give no relief! 

WEARY DAY. 

OH! weary, sad and darksome day, 
In this strange land so far away. 
Thousands of miles from all so dear ! 
Why was I tempted to come here? 

Imprisoned life and constant fears 
Will never cease these bitter tears f 
Will sorrows end but with my life? 
Will never end suspense and strife? 

62 



TWO DLARL5T ONL5. 

LAST night I dreamed that I went home, 
The way was long and weary. 
And yet I walked there all alone. 

Through all the night so dark and dreary ; 
Arriving there in morning light. 

Just in the glorious sunrise. 
The morn was beautiful and bright, 
Ethereal blue the cloudless skies. 

Oh ! how I longed to reach the door. 

My joy then knew no bounds ! 
I was at home, all sorrows o'er. 

For now I stood on native ground ; 
The door was ope'd by kindly hands, 

Yet I could not its portals cross, 
For all at once strange seemed the land, 

And o'er me came such sense of loss. 

I knew full well the dear old house. 

The oaken hallway and the stair, 
But towering near the house so close 

Arose high mountains everywhere ; 
I sought in vain the little park, 

And pond of shining trout, 
Yet there loomed mountains high and dark. 

Indeed, I found no place I sought. 

Like vision bright my sister flew 

To give me cordial greet 
And welcome home, so warm and true. 

But, oh ! my heart was filled with grief. 

63 



"Art thou not glad to be at home ?" 
I saw that tears bedewed her cheek; 

**So long we prayed for thee to come, 
O sister, why dost thou not speak?" 

With quivering lips and tearful eye, 

Is this my home? I doubting asked; 
I caught her look unto the sky, 

While prayerfully her hands were clasped ; 
Oh, why, I cried, these mountains dark. 

Where once were gardens rich and rare, 
And where is now our lovely park. 

Why does my child not greet me here? 

"Thy child is now in yon bright home, 

A fairer, happier home than this ; 
She longed for mamma dear to come, 

But left for thee her good-night kiss." 
Ere I could breathe one cry there came, 

Adown the stair with hand outstretched, 
A strange yet kind and friendly dame. 

Bade me come in, where I could rest. 

Said she, "Thy mother's gone to rest. 

Thy child now sleeps in peace, 
And though of both thou art bereft, 

Kind heaven will help thee bear this grief. 
She left a blessing for her child 

She ne'er might see on earth again. 
And prayed thou woulds't not grieve the while. 

Thou dwellest in this world of pain. 

64 



O God! my child! my mother gone? 

No wonder 'tis that mountains loom. 
How canst thou talk in such calm tone, 

When all the earth is filled with gloom? 
Then spake my angel sister, Lou, 

With fingers upward pointing: 
"Mother is there, and Irma, too" — 

I heard no more, for I was fainting. 

When from the swoon I had recovered, 

I was awake, but wildly weeping, 
And all the day I have endeavored 

To realize that I was dreaming. 
Thankful am I, if still they live. 

Mother and child, two dearest ones! 
May heaven rebellious hearts forgive 

Who fail to say, "Thy will be done." 



SITTING LONLLY. 

SITTING lonely by my window. 
Oft I gaze across the way, 
And my soul is filled with sorrow. 

While my neighbors' hearts are gay ; 
Strangers are they unto me. 
Yet I love their joys to see. 

'Tis that their quiet happiness 

Draws my sad soul away, 
To other days when life was bliss, 

6i 



Yet that time seems so far away, 
So much of misery, and sin. 

Have crowded in the years since then. 



REVENGE. 

OH ! where is the heart 
That once you possessed, 
Ere you met with the siren 
Who caused my distress? 

Severed ties that have bound us 
Through pain and through pleasure, 

Oh ! may she who divides us 
Sup of woe fullest measure I 

May she drink from the cup 
To my lips she has pressed, 

May she drain to the dregs 
All my souVs bitterness! 

Go seek for her rival, 

And leave her disconsolate ! 

Could I wish for her worse 
Than my own wretched fate? 



66 



DARKL5T HOUR. 

^^^ I ^HE darkest hour before the dawn," 

X How many times I'm sure I've read, 
And "darkest hour before the dawn," 
How often I have heard it said. 

I wonder if the words are true; 

If so, the morn must soon be here; 
If not, my soul, what shall I do? 

What more can heart of woman bear? 

My husband false ! my all is lost ! 

My heart, indeed, no rest can find ! 
I live to find all earth but dross, 

God give me a contented mind ! 

Content to live devoid of love, 
Tenderest hearts may turn to stone ; 

Oh ! pitying angels from above, 
I pray thee leave me not alone ! 

"The darkest hour before the dawn" — 
There is no dawn on earth for me ! 

Why should I live to see the morn? 

Oh ! that this night might set me free ! 

Free to walk in the golden streets, 

Free in flowery fields to roam. 
Free to sit at the Saviour's feet, 

In that celestial, happy home ! 

67 



5LVLRLD TIL5. 

IN the judgment hall I'm waiting 
For the words that seal my doom ! 
And for grief that I am stifling 
In my heart there scarce is room ! 

Oh ! Falseheart 1 why hast thou done this, 

In my hour of direst need? 
Has thy soul no spark of kindness? 

Is thy heart so hard indeed? 

Thou hast severed ties that bound us 
Ten long years of wedded life ; 

For thy faithlessness divides us, 
And I am no more thy wife ! 

To-day this woful day thou'rt free ! 

Go, seek thy favorite one ! 
Go wed whatever she may be, 

Bold siren ! thus ignobly won ! 

And I shall wish for her no ill 

That I've not known since wed to thee; 
No other ill, no bitterer pill ! 

Than my soul's agony ! 

Farewell, Falseheart ! forevermore ! 

Alas ! could I forgive thee ? 
Could I forget ? ah, nevermore ! 

Till death shall quench my memory ! 



RARE GIFT5. 

I MET with one while journeying 
Across life's rough, tempestuous sea ; 
She found me sad and sorrowing, 
And rarest gifts bestowed on me. 

Such gifts they are too rarely found, 

In this cold world, 'tis true. 
And yet they have so sweet a sound, 

I much regret they are so few. 

-Kind words of tender sympathy. 

Of cheer to hearl^ oppressed, 
Of hope and kindly charity — 

These softly soothe the soul's unrest. 

And must this meeting be the last, 

While fortune weaves her Avarp and woof? 

And shall we meet no more? Alas ! 
My heart can ill accept the truth. 

Oh, fain would I from this time forth. 
That I might meet her every day. 

For I have learned to know her worth. 
While traveling on my homeward way. 



6g 



TO HARRY. 

An Appeal to the Sun, and the Son. 

ARISE, O glorious and resplendent Sun! 
And in thy ceaseless round this autumn 
day, 
Oh ! shed thy loving light and warmth on one 
So dear unto my heart, and yet so far away. 
My dear, my loving son ! 

And oh ! Thou blessed Saviour ! God's Holy 
Son ! 
Guide him in tender mercy through the day ; 
Bestow Thy loving smile, and care on one 
So dear unto my heart, and yet so far away, 
My dear, my precious one ! 

And when the day is gone, and night has come. 
Oh ! linger near as through the sunny day. 

Until life's weary journey shall be done. 
So dear unto my heart, and yet so far away. 
My dear, beloved son ! 



GOD BLL55 YOU. 

4^/^"^ OD bless you," dear old couple! 

V_T Sitting there beside the fire ; 
You gave me warmth and kindly welcome, 

I wonder if you still are there. 

70 



When I bade gfood-bye and left you, 

Sitting either side the fire, 
How I hated then to leave you, 

Now I see you sitting there. 

I have thought of you so often, 

Sitting there beside the fire; 
Well nigh trod your road to heaven. 

Soon at most you must be there. 

I was weary and near frozen, 
And my little boy was with me, 

In a strange and lonely region, 
And your kindness then did cheer me. 

"Pray, sit nearer to the fire. 

And remove your wraps," said you; 

I explained that we were waiting 
For the coach to take us through; 

And we waited twenty minutes, 
Entertained by you so kindly. 

That I never shall regret it. 

That cold ride from Chillifindly. 

Sitting there beside the fire. 

In the little town of Freezville, 
Waiting summons, "come up higher," 

Lord delay that summons still. 
Many travelers fain would find them, 

Sitting there beside the fire. 
And I long once more to greet them, 

Dear old couple sitting there ! 

71 



MY MOTHLR'5 R05L5. 

THESE beautiful roses you gave to me, 
All fresh and fair with morning dew, 
I brought them away, over hill, and lea, 

Their fragrance imparting sweet thoughts of 
of you. 

I have laid them away, all faded and withered. 
Though lingers there something of fra- 
grance still, 

The self-same roses my mother gathered, 
The morn I left the old home on the hill. 

May the love of your children, my own dear 
mother. 
Be as fragrant and sweet as these roses to 
me; 
May they comfort you ever, each sister and 
brother. 
And make smooth the waters of life's 
troubled sea. 

O mother ! sweet mother ! may roses eternal, 
All thornless and fragrant, bloom ever for 
you 
In the home over yonder, in mansions super- 
nal, 
Where is never a parting nor tearful adieu ! 



72 



TO MY MOTHLR-IN-LAW. 

THE dainty broider'd thing, 
Which your deft hands have wrought, 
Each stitch doth loving message bring 
Of love and kindly thought; 

I see you now in your bright home. 

Where all was calm content, 
Sitting the afternoon alone, 

Over the snowy muslin bent; 

And oft I know a sigh would rise, 

From loving heart and lips. 
And maybe tears have dimmed your eyes. 

While you were broid'ring this ; 

And when I think you made it all, 

The web-like lace so fine. 
So many, many hours of toil, 

I weep, to think you were so kind. 

I've laid it in my drawer away. 

With rose leaves in between ; 
I'll wear it on some happy day. 

Though 'tis more fitting for a queen. 

A sacred gift ! and ever will 

My heart as grateful be. 
For this sweet proof of kind, good will. 

This souvenir from you to me. 



73 



MOTHLRLL55. 

OH, well do I remember 
A sad and lonesome day, 
When they carried my poor mother 
To the hillside far away; 

They told me that her spirit soared 

Above to God who gave. 
And left her child a stranger here. 

With not an arm to save. 

'Tis many years since that sad time, 

And yet where'er I go. 
My mother's words are oft in mind, 

"My child, this is a world of woe. 

"Prepare to meet your mother there. 
Where all is holy, good and pure; 

God shield you from the tempter's snare. 
Nor sinful paths your steps allure." 

''My child, this is a world of woe," 
My mother's words, indeed how true ! 

And yet how little did she know. 

What depths of woe I must pass through, 

Ere I should gain the heavenly shore, 
Where she awaits her stricken child; 

There we shall meet to part no more. 
Earth's cruel wrongs and sorrows o'er ! 



74 



TAGABOUT. 

OUR home is beautiful and grand, 
But the skeleton's here the same; 
He follows me o'er sea and land, 
Old Tagabout is his name I 

The hills are fair, and meadows fine, 
But he stalks them o'er at will ; 

Indeed, on earth no place I find! 
But Tagabout haunts me still. 

Our gardens rich, our orchards rare. 
But he meets me there the same ; 

He spoils my pleasure everywhere ! 
I loathe his hateful name ! 

A lovely lake with boats thereon, 

As pretty as any could be, 
But Tagabout lurks the guests among. 

Yet only is knozvn to me. 

I fain would turn me from these scenes, 
And seek afar another shore. 

But well I know, e'en in my dreams, 
His shadow haunts me evermore ! 

How oft I ask, why doth our Lord 
Afflict with griefs wc cannot bear? 

Our sins Jehovah hath abhorred! 

Forgive! O heaven ! hear our prayer! 

7S 



For "generations down," He says. 
E'en to the ''third and fourth," 

He'll visit sins upon our heads, 
For they have made Him wroth ! 

My ancestors, I know them not. 

For if I suffer for their sin, 
They must have been a wicked lot! 

Ah, no ! ril search my heart within. 

There I may find the grievous thing 
That doth embitter all my life ! 

/'// tear it forth! and give it wing! 

Then shall my life with peace be rife. 

And, Tagabout, you shall not win! 

Go ! get thee hence ! come here no more ! 

Take from my sight your grinning face ; 
Go! hie thee! to some distant shore! 

Your presence here destroys my peace. 

You shall not stalk at your sweet will, 
Nor hide in closets where I dwell I 

Get out from here ! old skeleton ! 
Old Tagabout! your race is run! 



76 



WL HAVL DRIFTED APART. 

WE have drifted apart on the ocean of life, 
And our barks never meet on the 
main; 
Long years have passed since you made me 
your wife, 
And the last have been fraught with sorrow 
and pain. 

Our dear little boy, our joy, and our pride. 
Seems almost a man as he walks by my side ; 

I wonder the while if your heart has not bled, 
For the child you deserted, who has 
mourned you as dead. 

Twelve years have passed over his innocent 
head, 
"Papa's own little darling," you called him, 
you know, 
Yet the child that you worshipped has since 
"wanted bread," 
And his life with my own has been clouded 
with sorrow. 

Oh ! how cruel the heart that would cause him 

distress, 
We had thought him too frail for this cold 

earth at best. 
So dearly he loved you, and would fondly 

caress 



77 



Every letter you wrote, and your photo- 
graph kiss ; 
He had watched for your coming, nor laid him 
to rest. 

Till he prayed that our Father his papa 
would bless. 

Oh ! where is the heart once tender and just 
To a fond, faithful wife, your child, and your 
home? 
Ere you met with the siren by heaven ac- 
cursed ! 
Oh ! how has she tempted your fond heart to 
roam? 

TO EDITH. 

THROUGH tangled labyrinths of woe, 
Our God can lead you safely through, 
If you but put your trust in Him, 
And strive to crush besetting sin. 

Weary the darksome road you tread. 
And yet for you His blood was shed ; 
From sorrows pain He will release, 
And you in Him find perfect peace. 

Go, ask of Jesus to forgive. 
Sweet peace to know while yet you live ; 
At last in heaven among the blest 
Your weary soul shall find sweet rest. 

78 



Not many years have I to live, 

And all the past I now forgive, 

That you may prosper through your life. 

Be blessed as mother, daughter, wife. 

Seek now the Saviour ere too late, 
And thus ensure a happier fate 
Than you can know while living here. 
Where oft must fall the scalding tear. 

Your children teach to honor God, 
And when my body 'neath the sod 
Shall quietly be laid to rest. 
May you and they on earth be blessed. 



TO LVA. 

BELOVED Sister, thou 
Whom all must love 
Who knew thee, well 
Do I recall thee now 
As first I thee beheld ; 
Thy large and lustrous eyes 
For one so young 
Seemed far too wise, 
I thought our home 
An angel held ! 
That you had come 
From far-off paradise 
Within our home to dwell ; 



79 



We bless kind Heaven 
That we may keep thee still; 
And pray no earthly ill, 
Dear one ! may thee befall ; 
And that our Father will 
Shield thee from sorrows all ! 
Dear Love ! we would thee hold, 
Until within the fold 
Our Father gathers all ! 



OUR DOCTOR'5 BIRTHDAY. 

FRIEND in sorrow, joy and sickness. 
Gems I fain would bring to you, 
But you'll forgive the lack of richness; 

Well, Fve learned the simplest token 
Ofttimes comes from hearts most true. 

Take these kerchiefs, and if ever 
You, perchance, may wipe a tear 

On the silken threads of either, 
May the Comforter be near. 

May heaven's richest blessings fall 
On every future birthday; 

And when, my friend, you've lived them all. 
Rejoice to hear the Master say, 
"Well done, thou good and faithful." 



80 



TO Z. M. G. 

ZEALOUS and untiring hast thou in good 
works ever been, 
Ever living, ever striving to reclaim the lost 

from sin ; 
Living for the Master only, working in His 

vineyard still; 
Oh ! lay not down the task, but nobly work, 

with earnestness and will ; 
Take them by the hand and kindly point the 

way He'd have them go. 
And not many'll disappoint thee — try them, 

trust them, prove it so. 

May this book, "No sex in sin," 

Laurels for the author win. 

Gather wayward souls discovered. 
And poor sinning ones of earth ; 
Rare the gems have been recovered. 
None but heaven knew their worth ; 
Ever be my prayer that you 
Righteousness may e'er pursue, 

And heaven reward as may be due. 

TO ELLA. 

ELLA, God said, "love thy neighbor," 
Let love be our present theme, 
Love of lover, and of mother. 
All is not a transient dream ! 



8i 



Love of lover, heart's unrest ! 
Oh ! the mother love is best ! 
Under heaven none so true 
I have found and so may you ; 
She for you will watch and pray, 
Eve, and morn, and bright noonday ; 

Render her the homage due 
One so faithful, and so true ! 
Bid her ever trust in you. 
Even to the great beyond ; 
Rarely does one find another 
That can fill the place of mother. 
So mother love shall be my song. 

TO ISABELLA. 

I SHALL miss you, Isabella, 
Shall miss your loving smile. 
And your voice so sweet and tender ; 
But work, my love, will hours beguile 
Ere we shall meet again, 
Loving, generous, kind and true, 
Let me say these things of you, 
And pray your life be free from pain. 

Hearts there are to love you, dear. 
Onward through life's journey; 
May God be ever to you near, 
Ever shield and guide you. 
So may your life a blessing be to all poor souls 
who need you. 

82 



Happy in His love forever, 

O may you ever be ! 

Basking in His sunshine ever. 

And from anxious care be free ; 

Remember me as oft you pray. 

The friend you met on life's highway. 



TO ETTA. 

EVERY blossom by the wayside, 
Tells us, dear, that God is love ! 
Trust Him, then, whate'er betide, 
And in His promises abide. 

Better far, my child, than gold. 

Or all earth's glittering gems. 

Your parent's love, that ne'er grows cold ! 

Darling, love and cherish them ; 

Ever dutiful and kind. 

Never to their wishes blind ! 

Trust your Saviour through the shadows, 
If they, perchance, encompass you. 
Let thunders roar and lightnings flash ! 
Let earthly friends forsake you, 
Still trust, on Him your hopes depend, 
Oh ! may He guide you to the end ! 
No love like His, my little friend ! 



83 



TO FRANCL5. 

FROM a heart sincere these words I send, 
Rarely, my dear, have I found a friend 
Along the path of life's highway^ 
(Never, indeed, I might truly say) 
Could rival you in my heart so true. 
Endless our friendship, oh ! may I be 
Sweetly remembered, love, ever by thee ! 

All our sorrows are made lighter. 

By loving words of kindly cheer. 

By words of love our lives made brighter, 

Oft may we hear them, friend, most dear ; 

Then till we meet, and no more part, 

'Tis ink-talk must make glad the heart. 

So slow it is, this way of converse. 
Unless a swifter pen than mine, 
'Tis true that none at all were worse ; 
Then to repine we'll not incline. 
Oh, no, but rather bless the pen, 
Nor e'er forget to write again. 



NIDA. 

NIDA ! "Happy New Year !" darling, 
Now upon this New Year's morning. 
Indolently there reclining. 
In futurity still gazing? 

84 



Dost not see the hours are fleeing? 
Dost not see the silver lining? 
All the darkest clouds are fleeing, 
And e'en now the sun is shining! 

Pauline, precious, peerless Pauline ! 

Patiently thy course pursue. 

And the world shall yet be thine. 

All the world that is to you ; 

"Upward and onward," be thy motto. 

Unfaithful prove to none ! 

Loving, ever kind and true, 

Last year's past, resolve anew. 

In all thou dost beneath the sun. 

Innocence be one with you ; 

Nida, may this new year bring 

No heart sorrow, but much gladness. 

Every pleasure, naught of sadness. 

Every blessing, and a king! 

Roses may he scatter ever, 

'Round thy pathway, thornless roses 

Of ecstatic joy forever! 

Oft as thy beauteous head reposes, 

Mayst thou dream of one fond lover; 

May happy years on earth be thine. 

In heaven trust ! thy treasures there, 

In thy true sphere thou'lt brightly shine. 

Nor ever heed the tempter's snare. 

Nida, quaint, and queenly Nida, 

Endless joys may they be thine ! 

Ever thy loving friend, the Writer. 

85 



TO DR. G. 5ALI5BURY C. 

GENTLY may the zephyrs waft thee 
Every good, with naught of sorrow ; 
Oh ! may heaven e'er sustain thee, 
Richest gifts on thee bestow, 
Guard and guide thee on thy way. 
Even to the endless day ! 

Sweetly may the years glide on, 
As adown thy life's decline. 
Life, so closely linked with mine ; 
In winter's chill and summer's sun 
Sorrows have been since we were one, 
But we have put our trust in Him ; 
Up there, where all is free from sin, 
'Round His throne we hope to meet. 
Yes, when our earth life is complete. 

Can we but hope to enter there. 
Lord in His name, oh ! hear our prayer, 
And grant to us this one desire. 
Release from all temptations here ; 
Kindly guide us, lead us " higher," 
Ee'n unto Him, our Saviour dear ! 



TO G. 5ANBORN C. 

GRANT, O Lord, this one request, 
Ere my soul in peace may rest; 
Oh, deign my darling son to bless ! 

86 



Remember him, O Lord, I pray ! 
Gently lead him all the way. 
Even to the perfect day ! 

Strength, oh, give to him to resist 
All temptations that beset, 
Nor while he may on earth exist. 
Be here, or there, his life regret; 
Oh, give him grace ! and wisdom, too ! 
Righteousness may he pursue! 
Nor deeds of kindness fail to do ! 

Could I but strew his path with flowers. 
Love would do all were mine the power, 
All earthly ills were put to flight, 
Round him no dark, despondent night; 
Kindly guide Him, Saviour, do! 
E'en to that bright home with you! 

TO M. J. C C. 

MY child ! my dearly loved one ! 
Almighty God, I pray. 
Be ever near thee ! His dear Son 
Endured the cross for thee ! 
Live thou for Him, He comforts me! 

Jesus, our blessed Lord, oh, grant. 
And holy angels all ! 
No sorrow chill so pure a heart. 
Earth hold for thee no pall ! 

87 



Trust thou in Him I ''Act well thy part!'' 
'Tis heaven rewardeth all! 
Ere Jesus calls me to depart, 

Could I but lift the shadows all, 
And leave to thee but love and cheer, 
Dear one !, oh, may thy path be clear. 
While traveling here — or whereso'er — 
Enjoy our Saviour's love, and care, 
Live thou for Him! and faithful he! 
Live thou for one so dear to me! 

Could I but shield thee from all ill. 
Love, well thou knowest 'tis my will. 
Around thy pathway, dear, I'd strew 
Roses all thornless, well you know ; 
Kind heaven lead with tender care, 
E'en to thyself, my daug-hter fair ! 



TO MARY. 

MANY" days have intervened, 
And your "phiz" I have not seen. 
Rather I the sun were screened 
Yonder in the sky serene ! 

Rather I the moon were hid, 

Or the stars refuse to shine, 
Blackened sky with lightnings lurid, 

I would surely not repine. 



No, with Mary by my side, 

Storm and tempest spend their fury ! 
Only leave me, my sweet Mary, 

Naught care I whate'er betide ! 



TO RUTH. 

RUTH, dear one, may you remember. 
Unto Jesus always render 
That which is your Saviour's due. 
He was crucified for you ! 

Ever ready, always willing. 
Lovingly to do His bidding; 
In His vineyard ever faithful. 
Shall your heart be light and cheerful. 

And abovej the angels, watching. 
Bless your efforts, Ruth, my darling. 
Ever looking to the Master, 
Trusting Him through all disaster. 
He will guide you, trust Him ever! 

"Salvation's free," we hear them sing! 
I will accept the Lord, my King! 
Still guided by His tender love. 
Shall we, dear child, meet Him above? 
Oh, may we gladly follow on, 
Nor falter till the goal is won ! 



89 



TO HATTIL. 

HOW I long for your coming, 
And I always dread your going, 
Rosy-hued the days I'm with you, 
Rarely found a friend so true, 
In the eventful past I proved you 
Ever generous, brave and kind. 
Trust me and abiding friendship find. 

May your life be sunny now. 
And no sorrow cloud your brow ; 
Round about you friends all faithful, 
In your home true love be found. 
And peace and comfort there abound. 



TO CAROLYN. 

CAST away the chaff, dear cousin, 
And your life will brighter be; 
Rise, my dear, to the occasion, 
Oh, if we could only see, 
Light, O Lord, futurity. 
Yet press on and do not pause, 
None can alter heaven's laws ! 



L5THLR. 

EARTH is with sorrow rife, 
Stay thy steps, so spare thy life, 
'Tis not thine own, 'tis heaven's boon ! 



90 



His gifts He doth recall at will, 
Endure thy lot, and tarry still ; 
Render unto Him His due, 

He will see you safely through. 



FACES ON THL WALL. 

OH, the faces on the wall 
Of my loved ones dead and gone ! 
They are gazing on me ever, 
And I sometimes wonder whether 
They are really dead at all ! 



IN MLMORIAM-ADDIL WIL50N. 

THIRTEEN summers scarce had flown 
O'er her shapely sunny head, 
When the angels called her home, 
And we mourn as for one dead. 

Yet not dead, but living yonder, 
Leaving earthly parents here ; 

She has gone to join our Saviour, 
She is with our Father there ! 

Well I know no brighter gem 

Shines in royal diadem ; 
O'er her pure and radiant soul, 

Waves of peace forever roll ! 



91 



Always loving, kind and gentle, 
And your hearts will bleed afresh. 

You'll recall her childish prattle, 
And her childhood's witching grace. 

You will miss her from the home nest. 

Dear and only darling child ! 
None are left to soothe your anguish. 

Or press your aching brow the while. 

You weep, and wail, yet not for her 
Should tears ere wet your cheek; 

She in heaven now is safer, 
Lovely Addie, mild and meek ; 

Her simple faith in God most high, 

Her noble life while here, 
Should dry the tears from every eye, , 

Oh ! weep not, then, o'er Addie's bier. 

Believe, dear ones, you are bereft. 
That she might dwell on high. 

Our Jesus earthly parents left. 
And Addie did not fear to die. 

Five sad days and nights of torture, 
Pain intense her body racked. 

Then a sudden calm came o'er her, 
"Mamma, am I dead?" she asked. 

92 



No ! my darling Addie, no ! 

I am cold and mamma's hands 
(Mother's love, ah! who can know?) 

Seek the tiny feet to warm them; 

Cold, indeed ! the mother gently 
Drew the blankets white and soft. 

Round her darling still more closely. 
And she sleeps, while mamma oft 

Listens to the labored breath. 
To the painful breathing listens ; 

Thinks she not this may be death, 

Though her cheeks with tear-drops glisten. 

Worn and faint, yet scarcely daring 

For a moment seek repose, 
Father watches by their darling. 

While she sleeps, and no one knows. 

Angels come as morn approacheth, 
And bear her to that blissful shore ; 

While the weary mother sleepeth, 
Father pauses at her door. 

And the dreadful tidings follow, 

"Addie's dcadT Oh, say 7iot so ! 
And that mother wild with sorrow ! 

Heaven have pity on her woe ! 

03 



"Oh ! white and cold !" the mother wept ! 

"Oh ! can it be, all life is gone? 
Oh ! my husband, have you slept? 

And Addie died alone?" 

No, weeping mother, not alone! 

For the angels bore her onward, 
Bore her from your earthly home 

Upward even to His throne ! 

The loving father had not slept, 
But the angels entered softly ; 

Faithful his vigil had he kept. 
But they bore her forth so gently. 

Gone ! without one word of farewell I 
One fond kiss, or clasp of hand, 

Passed she through the golden portal. 
With that glorious angel band ! 

While the morning light was dawning 

O'er the city, in that home 
Wails of woe on that sad morning 

Echo back from room to room! 

Never waking from that slumber, 
While the anxious, loving father 

Tenderly was watching o'er her, 
Addie crossed the mystic river. 

94 



Thus the mother prayed insistent. 
Prayed she for the hundredth time, 

"Spare my darling, if consistent 

With Thy will, O heaven, not mine ! 

"But if not, oh ! spare her suffering. 
Grant release from pain severe," 

Thus the mother prayed unceasing; 
Who shall say He did not hear? 

"Pray, O mamma, pray for Addie !" 
Thus the little creature plead ; 

"I am praying, darling Addie !" 
Thus the mother oft replied. 

Weep not, O sorrowing parents, 
Your loved one lives again ! 

In heaven, o'er death she triumphs, 
Never more to suffer pain ! 

"Look to Jesus !" He well knows 
All the wounds of heart and soul ! 

Heeds each bitter tear that flows. 
He will heal and make you whole ! 



9S 



TO C. T. 

WHEN earth's trials are over, 
And you hear the ''well done," 
You will meet her again 

(Your fond, faithful, loved one). 
In that happier home. 

Where no sorrow, or pain, 
Or illness can come. 

Grieve not, then, O brother ! 

She has but gone before. 
She has crossed the mystic river. 

And walks the heavenly shore. 
At home with Christ our Saviour, 

At home forevermore ! 

Our earthly home is transient; 

In that land that's free from sin 
Christ has prepared a mansion, 

For those who follow Him ! 
And He has paid the ransom. 

Oh, may we enter in !■ 
For sorrows ne'er can come 

That holy place within ! 
Oh! blessed Lord! we thank Him, 

We have this to console ! 
He hath prepared a resting 

For the weary, faithful soul ! 



96 



TO A. C. 5. 

SHE has gone from the home, 
Her presence has blessed, 
Her sweet spirit has flown 
To the haven of rest ! 

Oh ! how lonely the hours 
When her voice is not heard, 

You will listen in vain 

For the kind, loving word. 

Yet she waits you, O brother, 
In the mansion above, 

Prepared by our Saviour, 
With His infinite love ! 



FAREWELL, FATHER. 

FAREWELL, father ! thou hast left us. 
And our hearts are filled with woe. 
Though we have this to console us. 

Thou wert well prepared to go 
To that bright mansion of the blest, 
Thy poor body pained and weary, 
Has at last found perfect rest. 

Farewell, father, kind and tender. 
How we miss thee none can tell ! 

May we meet beyond the river, 

While we grieve may wc remember 

That "He doeth all things well !" 

97 



HLART5 BLRLFT. 

TO-DAY the sad, sad message came 
That tells me of thy depth of woe ! 
The breaking heart, the yearning pain, 
None but a parent's heart can know. 

Fond hearts bereft, I long in vain 
To send some words of loving cheer, 

But feeble words how weak and vain 
To stricken hearts they must appear. 

'Tis but few words the message read — 

"Our darling little boy is dead. 
And it is more than I can bear !" 

Oh ! well I know how thy heart bled ! 

When trembling fingers penned the lines, 
Ah ! sister dear, I know full well. 

Yet there are many who will share 
Thy grief, too deep for tongue to tell ! 

But God alone can thee sustain 

Through this thy soul's profoundest grief; 
He heals the heart that's broke in twain, 

May faith in Him afford relief ! 

Yes, words of ours are weak and vain. 

And we may wound when we would soothe, 

Yet there's a balm for every pain ; 

So few find earthly pathways smooth, 

98 



So full of thorns, oh, is it plain 

Thy loss must be thy darling's gain? 

Alas ! how little do we know 

What might await him here below, 

Whatever harm might him befall, 
Thy precious boy is safe from all ! 

When no human skill could save him 
Jesus called him for His own, 

Now with eyes of faith behold him. 
Brightest spirit near the throne ! 

Bury not thy heart with baby, 
In the cold and silent tomb. 

He is not there, thy precious bud 
In heaven above shall bloom ! 



TO AMY. 

YOU will miss your baby brother. 
And full oft will grieve, I know, 
But dear little niece, remember 
That our Saviour loved him also. 

And He took him in His bosom 
To that glorious home above ! 

For of such is heaven's kingdom. 
We must say, "Thy will be done." 

Lore. 

99 



PHOTO OF MY 5I5TER'5 BABE 

(Taken after death.) 

SLEEP on, sweet babe, sleep on; 
Sleep on, nor wake to weep ; 
Thy pains are o'er, thy mission done; 
Though yet so young thy goal is won ; 
Sleep on, O babe, thy dreamless sleep ! 
Asleep in death, oh ! long I gaze. 
And marvel thus in deep reflect ; 
Surely God's ways are not our ways. 
And yet this babe I would select 
As one best fitted for the skies ; 
This babe was born for paradise ! 
In truth, our Father's plans are wise. 

Five fleeting seasons now have passed. 
Two summers gone, one winter chill ; 
'Twas flowery May, and near the last. 
Between arbutus and the rose ; 
Oh ! well do I remember still 
When the happy news arrived. 
And many fervent prayers arose 
Thrice welcome boy ! that he might thrive. 

Oh ! beauteous babe I surpassing fair ! 
Fond hearts were breaking o'er thy bier ! 
How may we check the falling tear? 
Nor tears avail, nor sobbing prayer. 
Then, Father, keep our baby dear ! 



100 



Too pure for earth, it could not be 
That he could tarry here with thee, 
That cherub form lies 'neath the sod ; 
Then parents weep, but bless thy God ! 
No sorrow clouds his marble brow, 
Thy blessed boy's an angel now ! 

JL5U5 CALLED. 

GONE, the grandchild; gone, the grandsire. 
Both have crossed the dark abyss ; 
Jesus called them, ''Come up higher," 

To that bright world of perfect bliss ! 
Where the streets are gold and sapphire. 

And all glittering preciousness ! 
Now methinks I see our father. 

With his grandchild on his breast, 
And beside him yet another 

Loved one, long since gone to rest. 

His own child, his precious boy ! 

Who can say this is not best? 
Peaceful calm, and tranquil joy. 

Evermore among the blest ! 

DL5PAIR. 

MARVEL not that I am sad, 
And my step is slow and weary, 
Hope and joy, and love have fled ! 
Life, indeed, is dark and dreary. 



But think not, stranger, I am mad, 

Only my poor heart is heavy, 
Is it not better to be dead? 

Dead? Ah! yes, for not while living 
Can I this bitter grief forget ! 

For my heart strings it is gnawing! 
O God! why say'st Thou "not yet"? 



FAITH. 

OH, thou bright, beautiful and resplendent 
moon ! 
If we could but gaze up into the Master's face. 
Even as I now gaze on thine. 
Oh I then how strong might be our faith ! 
Who would not worship at His shrine? 



"LOOK TO JL5U5." 

OH ! how I wish that I could spare you 
All this harrowing grief and pain; 
"Look to Jesus," He will heal you. 

And though suffering praise His name ! 

Jesus in heaven knows it all. 

Suffered on earth far more than we ; 

The crucifix surpasseth all 
We know of mortal agony ! 



By vilest enemies was tried, 

And insults added o'er and o'er; 

Oh ! yes, our Lord was crucified ! 
Could mortal man e'er suffer more? 



MY GOD, I LOVE THLL. 

MY God, I love Thee ! Not because 
I hope for heaven thereby ; 
Nor because those who love Thee not 
Must burn eternally. 

Thou, oh, my Jesus, Thou didst me 

Upon the cross embrace ! 
For me didst bear the nails and spear 

And manifold disgrace. 

And grief and torments numberless, 

And sweat of agony, 
Yes, death itself, and all for one 

That was thine enemy. 

Then why, O blessed Jesus Christ, 
Should I not love Thee well? 

Not for the hope of winning heaven, 
Nor of escaping hell ! 

Not with the hope of gaining aught. 

Not seeking a reward ; 
But as thyself hath loved me, 

O ever-loving Lord ! 

103 



E'en so I love Thee, and will love, 

And in Thy praise will sing, 
Solely because Thou art my God, 

And my eternal King. 

— St. Francis Xavier. 
Translated by Edward Caswall. 



MY BIBLL. 

BOOK of all books : Oh ! Book divine, 
Thank God that I may call thee mine, 
The story of our Saviour's love, 

His wondrous birth_, His cruel death — 
He died for us! Bless God above, 

And evermore while we have breath, 
We'll tell the story of His love. 

Oh ! Book of books, most precious book ! 

Worth more than all on earth beside. 
Do not in some sequestered nook 

Or corner dark this Bible hide. 
But where is light and warmth and cheer. 

Where gather friends and children dear. 
Oh ! let it be our joy and pride 

To let this blessed Book appear. 

This Holy Book hath greater worth, 
Than shining gold, or glittering gems ; 

It guides our footsteps here on earth. 
And lights our way to heavenly realms. 

104 



Oh ! priceless boon to mortals given, 
Lead us along the narrow way, 

E'en to the pearly gates of heaven. 
Where all is love, and perfect day. 



GRANDPA AND GRANDMA. 

HOW well I remember 
My grandfather's mansion. 
So homey it stood 
At the foot of the hill ; 
Once it had served • 

As the ''four-corners" tavern. 
And many the wayfarer 
That halted there still ; 
For a drink from the well. 
And escape from the sun, 
In some shady nook 
On my grandfather's farm ; 
Or in winter to warm 
By the cheery log fire. 
And a drink of pure cider 
With my jolly grandsire ; 
And when storm hemmed them in, 
Would oft take a hand 
At a game of "old sledge," 
"Auction pitch," or "high low," 
And grandpa good naturedly 
Often declared 



los 



He cared not how thick, 

Or how fast, fell the snow, 

Since it was not he 

That his comrades detained, 

And he never heeded. 

Though grandma complained, 

The cider was "hard," 

And the "cards a disgrace." 

(Poor grandma ne'er knew 

A jack from an ace), 

A respectable dame 

Of the Lutheran church. 

And she thought quite unseemly 

My grandfather's mirth; 

She withdrew herself 

And her grandchild away. 

As far from their voices 

As ever she could, 

And told me that cider 

Led good men astray. 

And always had told me 

In cards were no good ; 

''God bless yoiL," dear grandma ! 

Who heeded your wisdom. 

Would never have cause 

After years to regret. 

And would finally land 

Up there in the kingdom, 

Where I hope dear old grandpa 

And you now have met. 

Four sons had my grandsire, 

io6 



And all men of honor ; 

Two daughters, the youngest 

Of these was my mother. 

Grandma had instilled 

Her own pious horror 

Of all that was harmful, 

Most especially cider; 

And grandfather wisely 

Bade them to mind her; 

Many long and sad years 

Have passed over since then, 

Yet fresh in my memory 

Ever have been 

My childhood visits 

To that charming glen ; 

The grandchildren now 

Are gray women and men. 

But I think none forget 

That old home at the corner. 

Where we frolicked and "visited" 

With patient old Rover, 

Or matronly rested, 

In a soft-cushioned chair. 

Singing soft lullabys 

To rag dollies so fair ; 

Worn level the rockers, 

The back high in air. 

Yet soft as geese feathers 

That old-fashioned chair. 

I remember another, 

With a "copperplate" cover. 



1(7 



sprinkled all over 

With roses and posies, 

My infantile wonder, 

The man who made "thoses" 

'Was a wonderful painter !" 

So grandma had said. 

And she never could lie; 

Were there ever such beds, 

And bed-posts so high ! 

When grandma saw fit 

To hang my bonnet up there, 

I never could get it 

Without my high-chair. 

And then those checkered counterpanes, 

Woven of blue and white, 

That grandma wove with such great pains. 

They must have been my "gramp's" delight. 

I see them now in memory. 

As plain as though but yesterday, 

But now they all are laid away, 

Quite out of mortal sight; 

They are not the modern rage. 

But silken puffs and blankets white. 

Ruffled shams, and spreads of snow. 

Dainty covers of fluffy lace. 

The matrons of to-day allow. 

Oh, give me back the good old days 

Of grandma's checkered counterpanes. 

Come back, come back, O days sublime ! 

Of happy, merry childhood's time. 

Bright rainbow rugs, my grandma made 

io8 



0£ brightest rags of every shade ; 

Indeed, they were quite 

The daily deHght 

Of my babyhood days, 

All scattered o'er 

The whitest floor, 

Where Rover and I, 

When weary of play, 

Oft rested an hour 

In the hot summer day. 

Now while I am writing 

Of grandma's surroundings, 

I would not forget 

Those artistic things — 

They are worthy of mention. 

For they won admiration — 

The bright shining andirons 

That held the cheery fire 

On merry winter evenings, 

When the children all were there, 

And grandpa cracked the but'nuts, 

And from way down in the cellar 

Brought up the apples fair; 

And Samuel popped the corn, 

Ma made the candy fare ! 

I was glad that I was born, 

And glad that I was there, 

I liked to go to grandpa's 

The best of anywhere! 



loo 



I DREAMED. 

OH, here I am at "gramp's" again! 
I did not know I came this way, 
Now I am here, I will go in, 

And 'tis so dark I'd better stay. 
(It looks as if they were away.) 

Outside the gate one hop pole stood. 

Bedecked with vine and odorous clusters, 

A funny sentinel, but good. 

Watching "marigolds" and "asters." 

A crowd of "larkspurs" "on a lark," 

Had brought about disaster, 
Firing "bachelor buttons" round ; 

Oh, yes, I saw them on the ground, 

And I ran on the faster. 

Inside the door hung that old horn. 
In days of yore called men to dinner ; 

Melodious still, but all forlorn, 

So long the bell was rung by Dinah ; 

I gave one toot on that old horn, 

The tall old clock then I could see, 
That he had well remembered me ; 

He heard that horn, and looked my way, 
Then up and tolled, as well might say, 

'Tis bedtime now for "maiden May." 



no 



I turned and ran, for now, as then, 

I beg you'll not send me to bed ! 
And I'll not venture there again. 

Unless I lose my senseless head, 
Or am asleep, or may be dead; 

And then, I fear, my ghost would dread 
To have that clock toll it to bed. 

Not one of those who once were there 
Could I see round there anywhere ! 

Where have they gone? The merry throng, 
A voice sepulchral said "beware! 

Some are in the churchyard there. 

And some are round most anywhere." 

LITTLE BEGGAR BOY. 

LITTLE barefoot boy, I see you. 
Are no larger than my own. 
Trudging o'er uneven pavements, 
Little feet all tired and worn. 

Little barefoot boy, I give you 
Pennies ''five" all that you ask. 

Just to purchase "cookies" for you, 
To relieve a long day's fast. 

Little barefoot boy, I leave you 
In the cold and darkened street; 

Hie thee home, my little fellow, 
Heavier purses may you meet. 



Little barefoot boy, my mother 

Taught me always to divide 
When I could, with some poor neighbor, 

And in pity often cried, 

"Turn ye not a hungry beggar 
Empty-handed from your door ; 

You may some day ask for succor, 
Pity give the suff'ring poor !" 

Little barefoot boy, remember. 

While you're trudging through the street, 
If you are a young impostor. 

Deceiving any whom you meet, 



You may gain from many poorer 
Than yourself, my boy, to-night. 

But in the end you'll be the loser, 
I would teach you what is right. 

I must warn you to remember, 
God will see you every time. 

And when comes the evil tempter. 
Say, ''Thou Satan get behind." 

When a man you're grown, and wiser. 

And have riches it may be. 
Many things might happen stranger. 

May the poor then come to thee. 



Then, my boy, you will remember 
You were hungry, once a beggar. 

If your words to-night are true. 
Shun no empty-handed stranger 

Who shall make appeal to you. 

Give to him when you have plenty. 
And the kindness never rue, 

Thus divide the Shepherd's bounty, 
As you'd have others do to you. 



GIVL MOTHLR A 5MILL. 

ONLY be kind for a little while, 
Alother will soon be gone, 
And never more look for a loving smile. 
Be patient, it will not be long. 

Oh, son, and oh, daughter. 

Think what she has done ! 
You will think in years after 

When your mother is gone. 

Then bring no regret. 

For the years yet to come, 
But smile on her now 

Ere she's called to her home. 

Bear her burdens awhile. 
As she has borne yours, 

113 



Oh, give her a smile, 
And open your doors ; 

Bid mother come in. 
Give her the best chair, 

And now she is within, 
Oh, cherish her there ! 

There is no friend like mother ! 

There is none half so true. 
Her grief she will smother 

To make sunshine for you. 



I LOVLD HIM. 

I LOVED him ; yes, I loved him, 
And yet he never knew. 
For seven years I loved him. 
He never, never knew ! 

Oh, why did I not tell him? 

For I knew he loved me true ; 
Oh, maidens, will you tell me. 

Why do ye as ye do ? 

Oft I said I loved him not, 
And always said him nay. 

And when he sought. 
He found me not, 

Fd gone the other way. 

114 



My lover died, so long ago, 
On the battle-field he died ! 

And when they told me that was so, 
I laughed, and screamed, and cried ! 

My brain was wild ! Oh, well I knew 
Life held for me no ray of light ! 

For weeks I called my lover's name. 
The world was blackest night ! 

Oh, had I told my love the truth, 
He by my side would stay. 

And I would not forever rue 
My foolish words that day. 

Oh, maidens, if your love be true, 
Don't say you love him not. 

Lest you, as I, your words may rue, 
Lest you may be forgot. 



A KISS, 

OH, 'twas a dark and weary day. 
When hope shed not a single ray 
Of sunlight o'er my loveless way ; 

Would'st thou believe, if told just this, 
That all the world contains of bliss 
That day was centred in a kiss ! 



"S 



Through weary months that kiss did lend 
The pleasing thought thou wert my friend ! 
Oh, might our friendship never end ! 

Yet, dearer still, though far removed, 
I love thee ! more than all I love ! 
On earth below, or heaven above ! 



JUDAS. 

^'nr^IS not God who hath decreed this, 
X But a false and treacherous one, 
Hath betrayed with Judas' kiss. 
And the cruel wrong is done ! 

'Tis the false tongue of the traitor. 
All this misery hath wrought ; 

Him I loved next to my Maker ! 
To him was true in every thought. 

He, my husband, he would rob me. 
Of the friends my childhood knew ; 

Torn and twisted, bleeding heart-strings ! 
Where on earth is balm for you? 

I was as faithful unto' him 

As woman ever was to man ; 
I loved him, for he was my husband. 

And never had I dreamed 

Of any other plan ! 

Ii6 



THE DRUNKARD'5 WIFL. 

FOR her no joys ; for lo ! she prays 
Through weary nights, and sorrowing 
days, 
That he repent, reform, return. 

Through fearful nights her lamp doth burn. 

Where is the God who answers prayer? 

Can He behold such wretchedness, 
Her bitter tears, her anxious care. 

And yet refuse her life to bless? 

With one light breath from Him, we know 
Rum might be swept from off the earth ! 

Then why such suff'ring and such woe? 
I would no mother should give birth 

To male, and if I had thy faith, 

My dear, for this now I would pray. 

Till rum is banished from the earth, 
I'd breathe that prayer night and day ! 



LITTLE JOE. 

WELL, Thanksgiving is over, 
And I am thankful. 
Though I hated to see Janie go, 
She was always my pet, 



"7 



And marm's idol, 
And no better girl ever grow'd; 
She would help ma to cook, 
Wash the dishes, and sew; 

Always so handy and cheerful. 
And was just like a mother to Joe ; 
Mother was sick a whole year. 
And Janie had all to do then ; 
I knew it was hard for our dear, 
Till mother was stronger again. 

And then Janie married her choice, 
'Twas a sorrowful household remained, 
Should we ever more hear her sweet voice? 
Would she visit us ever again? 
One winter and summer passed over 
Ere our Janie homeward came ; 

Little Joe had grown taller, 

He could scarce lisp her name 

When she kissed him a tearful "bye-bye," 

That night Baby Joe did nothing but cry, 

But when he could talk, 
You might hear him say 
A bad, naughty man 
Took his Janie away ; 
And when Janie came. 
On Thanksgiving day, 
Joie stood by the door, 

ii8 



And called to the "bad man," 

To come here no more; 

"Don't you know 'tis Fanksgivin 

And we don't want you here, 

But let Janie come in, 

She is my Janie dear/' 

Janie caught up the baby. 

And he made friends with John ; 

Now John claims my Joie, 
And I've only nine sons, 
Yes, ten, to be sure, 
When I'm counting this one ; 
And I can't give him up. 
So ten let it be. 
If John wants my baby. 
He must live here with me. 



TO A BACHELOR BROTHER. 

TAKE these shirts, without which no man 
Ever dressed himself complete ; 
They were made by hand of woman. 
And the women can't be beat. 

You will never be without one. 
When the women cast their vote, 

Nor without that famous button, 
We have heard so much about. 



119 



TO MR. AND MR5. J. K. 

KIND wishes 
For your welfare, friends, 
On the matrimonial sea ; 
With love so true that never ends, 
Blessed may you ever be. 

May heaven 
Grant you all the joys 

That fall to mortals here, 
With many merry girls and boys 

To bring your home good cheer. 



WHAT DOL5 HL LAT? 

LITTLE Frank, my wee bit of a brother. 
Was six years old, or about, 
Had been sitting awhile with mother. 

And she talked of our Father, no doubt — 

Our Father up there in heaven. 

Who is watching over us all — 
And he must be good, would soon be seven. 

And getting so very tall. 

That night when the sun was setting 

Behind the western hill, 
I noticed our Frank was leaning 

Far out o'er the window-sill ; 



And looking intent at the sky, 

He suddenly turned, and abruptly, 

While he looked me full in the eye. 

Said, "Say, what does that old fellow eat 

All day, up there in the sky?" 



VLRA, THE MAID OF LLVLRLTT GLLN. 

ERE'S a photo of my brother, 
When he was just fourteen, 
A merry-hearted youngster, 
And he was named Eugene. 

And Cora was a neighbor's girl, 

A lady born and bred; 
An eight-year courtship ("off and on"), 

And then the two were wed. 

A twelve-month passed, and then 
A tiny, blue-eyed maiden came 

To bless their home in Leverett glen — 
Vera Lucretia was her name; 

A sweeter maiden ne'er has been 

Than she who dwells in Leverett glen ; 

A lovelier maid was never seen 

Than trips across Glen Valley green. 



SLIM A5 AN ADDER. 

I HAD a little sister, 
And her name was Lutie B., 
And after I was married. 

She came to visit me; 
She was full of childish prattle, 

And seemed so very wise, 
And attracted much attention 

With her big blue wondering eyes. 

She talked about her brother ''Gene," 
And of their childish quarrels. 

One of these tilts, or warlike scenes, 
Was over a cage of squirrels ; 

One day I said, "Come here, Louette, 
You shouldn't tell the neighbor 

About your quarrels with Eugene, 
Because he is your brother ; 

You wouldn't have the people think 
Your brother has bad temper?" 

The big blue eyes then filled with tears. 
And the cheeks grew rosy red; 

She turned away and, as I feared, 
Went sadly to her bed. 

That was the way mamma had taught, 

When she was very bad. 
So while away from ma she thought 

To put herself to bed. 



Next day while we were all at lunch, 

And all sat gossiping, 
One made remark 

(''Small pitchers" listening) 
About a lady, very stout, 

My little son there sitting. 
And also Lutie B. ; 

Most earnestly my son spoke out : 
"Say, what a big fat woman — 

Lutie's mamma — grandma is — Gee ! 
But I wish that she was here" — 

With her cheeks getting crimson. 
And a sly glance at me, 

"Don't mention it now, Harry dear,' 
(So cautiously warned Lutie B.), 

"You know you must never 
Tell anyone here, 

But she's just as slim 
As an adder can be." 



WHAT WOULD YOU DO? 

LITTLE Frank was running riot. 
And mother was quite ill ; 
Twice she asked him to be quiet, 
Then said if he did not keep still, 
That mamma he would surely kill. 

"What would you do if ma should die? 
Then you would have no mother;" 



123 



Frank hung his head, but did not cry, 
Then looked at baby brother. 

I thought he looked as if he'd say 

I'll run away if I can't play, 
But he got up, and certainly, 
I heard him say quite sullenly, 

While tears rolled down his cheek, 

''You can die if you want to, 
I sha'n't go to your funeral," 

Then choked up so he could not speak. 
Now whatever would you do 

With such a tiny rascal? 

LVAN L. B. 

I HAVE a little nephew, 
And his name is Evan E., 
He has a little dog, 

And his name is Nixie B., 
And wherever you find Evan, 
That dog is sure to be. 

I do not like young Nixie B., 

For whenever I sit down, 
He's sure to sit upon my gown ; 

I give sly kicks, and then look sweet. 
When Evan turns away, I frown ; 

That brindle dog is some rare breed, 
A terrier pup from Boston town. 

But he zvill sit upon my gown. 

124 



And sometimes curls upon my feet, 
/ love that boy with all my heart! 

Or I could wish that dog retreat 
Right straight away to Boston town, 

But well I know 'twould break his heart, 
From little Nixie B. to part. 



HERMAN AND IRENE. 

DEAR Arthur and Amy, 
My dearest niece and nephew, 
Herman, Irene, and the baby, 
I want to hear from all of you. 

And how is little Herman? 

Red-cheeked and lithe of limb. 
Running over tables, 

And cutting up like sin. 

Oh, how Vd like to catch him. 
And squeeze him up real tight, 

And spank his little trousers. 
Oh, I love that little sprite ! 

Let me predict, dear Amy, 

When he is grown a man. 
You'll be as proud a lady 

As any in the land. 

125 



Don't hold the reins too tight, dear, 

I am sure that you will not ; 
Give the colt a little freedom. 

Or you will spoil his trot. 

And how is little Irene? 

Her mamma's perfect image. 
Not far behind, I ween, 

When ''Herm" provokes a scrimmage. 

Why shouldn't he be a hero. 

And she a heroine? 
Trace back the parents. Amy, 

Of Herman and Irene. 

Even to the great, great, great. 
They were heroes of the Revolu, 

Did the wives just wait, wait, wait? 
What did the women do? 

One did the work of forty men, 
And the others followed suit, 

And when the men returned again 
The women learned to shoot. 

The heroes then all ran away. 

And left the cowards, I say. 
And that is why some men to-day 

Have not the courage to say nay, 
"Get thee behind me, Satan," 

And we should have this very day 
Ten thousand Carrie Nations I 



126 



5LLL YOUR PICTURE. 

NOW, little son, why, don't you know 
That mamma has a headache? 
And cannot endure 

Such a noise as you make ? 

You will make mamma ill, 

Then what would you do? 
Would you keep very still. 

As mamma would for you ? 

Then what would you do 

If mamma should die? 
Who would take care of you, 

What would you do? 

The quick eye of my darling. 

Glanced hastily round ; 
His eye caught my portrait, 
^ In a handsome frame bound. 

His blue eyes danced merrily. 
And he clapped his dear hands. 

And cried out so cheerily, 
"Sell your picture, madam ! 

**How much could I get? 

Could / have it allf 
I'd have candy, you bet, 

And a big rubber ball ! 

127 



"And buy me a dog, 

And a pony and cart, 
But I wouldn't be a hog, 

I would give sister part; 

''But ma, who'd be here 

When I should come home? 

My prayers who would hear? 
Should I be all alone? 

*'Who would give me my supper? 

And warm my cold fingers? 
And come to my chamber 

When it lightens and thunders? 

''Who would kiss me, mamma? 

Would papa sometimes? 
And then on his knee, 

Would he let me climb? 

"Would he tell me a story 
When I'm lonesome for you? 

And wouldn't you worry? 
Oh ! how can a little boy 
Know zvhat to dot 

"Mamma, / will he still, 
And sit here in my chair; 

If you will not be ill. 
And if you do not care, 

128 



"I'll bathe your poor head, 
And braid your nice hair, 

'Cause you mustn't be dead. 
For my papa would care!" 



LITTLE 5UL. 

ONE day our little daughter. 
Blue eyes with wonder wide. 
Was seen awhile to ponder, 
Then coming to my side : 

"How was I made, dear mother?" 

Of dust, I soon replied ; 
Within a nearby mirror 

Then gazed my darling child ; 

Examined eyes, nose and ear, 
And then her golden hair; 

I thought I saw a pearly tear, 
And look, almost despair. 

Soon after this a baby came. 
To "Sue" a little brother; 

My sister Bess, a spinster dame, 
Then came directly over; 

She took the tiny fairy 

Before our little Sue, 
"Isn't he nice now, deary? 

Just see his eyes so blue." 



i2g 



"Oh, yes, if he was whiter, 

Maybe I'd like him, too, 
But I don't want no brover. 

Just red, wiv eyes so blue." 

"Well, I will take him home, I guess," 

Then spoke up little Sue, 
"Why don't you get some dust. Aunt Bess, 

And make a baby too?" 

"I don't know how," said Auntie. 

"My mamma then will show you. 
And I will watch her, too. 

For I can't make one. Auntie, 
Whatever way I do. 

"But I can make mud houses. 

And I can make mud pies. 
But I can't make mud babies, 

Cos I can't make the eyes. 

"Grandma said that he came down 

From way up in the skies. 
But, Auntie, how the wind blows ! 

And how the dust it flies ! 
But everybody knows 

My grandma never lies ! 

"She said an angel brought him, 

And hugged him up so tight. 
And that's what made his face so red, 

But soon it will be white ; 



130 



"So I guess that we will keep him 

Just for a little while, 
But you can come and tend him, 

And play he is your child ; 

"And I will tell them all, Aunt Bess, 

That he's your ownest own, 
For they would think 'twas strange, I guess, 

If I let you take him home." 

Then little Sue received a kiss 

From Auntie Bess so kind, 
And to adopt the little miss. 

Aunt Bess was more inclined ; 

Notwithstanding ev'ry neighbor 

Might believe he was her son. 
Aunt Bess declined the favor, 

And has no little one. 



G055IPY G055 ABOUT THE 5CRAGG. 
TOWN FAIR. 

YES, Hannah and I went down to the fair, 
Hannah '11 go there if she goes anywhere ; 
We went first to the hall. 
And there, I declare. 
Met old Lady Ball. 
Yes, she's always there ; 
And as true's as I'm a sinner, 



131 



Mirandy Green Pepper 

Was there by the side 

Of that silky Tom Ater, 

And they went in together 

To help "swell" the dinner; 

But, oh ! you would laugh 

If you'd seen Swany Squash, 

The biggest by half, 

A mountain in size ! and, by josh, 

Decked out in bright yellow, 

And had for a fellow 

Old sallow-faced Pa Snips, 

With his kith and his kin, 

All betwixt and between. 

Polly Pump Kinn was peerless 

By the side of Karl Karrott; 

Mike Murphy was cheerless 

As Hannah's old parrot; 

And all the Murphys' eyes were set 

On that handsome Swany Squash ! 

And pretty Polly Pump Kinn ! 

On their weight would like to bet. 

When, bland and handy, who should come on 

But that sweet dandy, Sir Musk Melon. 

Oh, fie, said he, no time to quarrel. 

But come out to the cider barrel. 

Then all agreed they were athirst. 

And each one tried to get there first ; 

Of all the sights I ever seen — 

One cabbage-head tumbled 

And rolled right over 



132 



Miss Lima Bean, 

And Rose Bermuda 

Billy Beet bumped over, 

And in between 

May Radish and Cuke Umber, Jr., 

And then I thought there would be war ; 

Cuke kept cool, but he looked green, 

Well, it gave them both a mighty jar; 

Yes, Cuke kept cool, but I declare 

Miss Radish's face got red as fire, 

And you can bet there's some grit there. 

Of all the Beets that were there, too, 

Their faces red as blood, by Joe; 

And I don't wonder much, do you? 

If all we hear about them's true. 

And that whole family of Turnips, 

Some wore purple tam-o'-shanters, 

And along with old Pa Snips, 

Scorning all the Routy Bagas 

And Scarlie Teena Pepper, 

(Mirandy's elder sister), 

Was there with seedy old Cuke Umber, 

And he decked out in yellow; 

They say he's often in a pickle. 

And sometimes spiced all through. 

Yet worth his weight in nickel. 

And that I s'pose is true. 

There was that lusty Watt R. Melon, 

Along with Antie Canta Lope, 

And his superb dimension 

Gave rise to many a joke; 



133 



The gay Apple Dappers 

Were there, dressed to kill, 

In coats of bright colors, 

Of red, green and yellow; 

Some come down from the hill. 

Some come up from the meadow. 

But they made a fine show, 

All there in a row. 

Every one such a beauty. 

Red-cheeked and healthy; 

And the Seckels, and Sheldons, 

And Bartletts were there, too ; 

And the whole tribe of ^lelons 

With nothing to do ; 

They're the pleasantest families 

You'd e'er wish to meet, 

Gaily decked rarities, 

So fair and so sweet; 

The aristocratic quinces 

Are getting quite exclusive, 

And I regret their recent fancies. 

And miss them — still we'll try to live. 

Well, time is up, and I can't tell ye 

All that I would 'bout this and that, 

The cans of fruit, the bright-hued jellies. 

And all that grows to make folks fat. 

I run across young Downie Peach, 

And little Miss Purply Plum, 

But I declare was told by each 

That none of their folks had come. 

Well, I left Hannah in the hall. 



134 



Looking at all the pretty posies, 

And talking still with old Miss Ball, 

'Bout them quilts with quilted roses ; 

And butter, and bread, and cheeses, 

After-dinner toasts, and speeches. 

But you'll have to read them in the paper, 

I can't tell you, that's not my caper; 

I went out to see the "critters" — 

Jerseys, Holsteins and what-not. 

Wishing I had a dose of my bitters 

That Hannah was glad I forgot — 

Haven't been very well, and not very strong. 

And to brace me a little I take 'em along. 

But Hannah says it's no tonic at all. 

Just simply old whisky, and bitter as gall ; 

Beats all how these women folks get twisted 

When once they put on the white ribbon bow. 

Jinks ! but you'd think the whole town was 

busted 
When I take a glass of cider, you know. 
Well, dry as I was, I looked over the stock, 
White rats and trained cats. 
And a fine Plymouth Rock, 
Angoras and bats. 
And sheep a whole flock. 
And some fluffy chickens 
That did nothing but peep. 
An old cat and kittens. 
All the kits fast asleep ; 
Well, now it is over, and I am so weak, 
I haven't told ye half, but the balance '11 keep, 

X35 



Next year go yourself, I am no story teller ; 
Hannah '11 tell ye more, and tell it to ye better ; 
Yes, I know I skipped all the races, 
I never lost a dollar with all my other losses, 
I never lost a dime a-betting on fast bosses. 



TO THL READER. 

KIND friend of mine, you may divine 
Who wrote these lines, although you 
find 
No name of mine, till you define 
The last two lines — do that betimes ; 
If you incline, or care to find 
Who wrote the rhymes ; pardon, friend mine, 
But penning lines has oftentimes 
Relieved a mind too much inclined 
To grieve, or mind, a word unkind ; 
In future time may thoughts of thine 
In words sublime bless all mankind; 
May deeds more kind the bruised heart bind ; 
So peace be thine, dear friend of mine. 
And any time, if you incline. 
Come in, friend mine, to tea, or dine; 
But never mind, the sparkling wine 
You'll never find on board of mine; 
You'll not repine, we've dogs to whine. 
And grunting swine, lambkins divine. 
And sheep called fine. Our horses shine, 
And speed like wind. The gentle kine, 

136 



In shade recline (contented kind), 

O'er green hillside, or pastures climb, 

You'll fail to find evil design 

Among their kind. Content with life. 

And all the while when earth is rife 

With toil and strife, they still recline, 

And well may smile at strenuous life. 

In rain or shine, this herd of mine, 

Which numbers nine, on grasses dine, 

(Food most refined), then they recline. 

And chew the while their quid so fine; 

Then meek and mild they come in file. 

And never mind a dusty mile. 

The boy behind, upon his "bike," 

The gentle kine may well dislike ; 

He speeds them sly, and bids them ''hie I" 

They scarce can fly, and he darts by. 

If one runs wild, or jumps aside. 

The others smile, — the road is wide — 

If you decide to take a ride 

O'er mountain side, old ''Brindle hide" 

None may deride, fair as a bride. 

Gentle to drive, though much alive. 

And you will find, old Brindle kind. 

One of his eyes, though, is quite blind; 

He's small of size, but you will find 

That he'll arrive all in good time. 

Bet you a dime ! with tail behind. 

If 'twere no crime to tell you lies, 

I'd say he'd climb most to the skies. 

I thought to write, while I could rhyme 



137 



Words with long i's, but cannot quite, 
I'll be more wise. So, reader mine, 
Let this suffice. I am surprised 
So many eyes are set lengthwise ; 
No more to-night. I'll be more kind. 
Your peace of mind, and valued time, 
Worth mo7'e than mine, I should divine. 
So I'll resign, yet beg to sign 
My name, Benign. 

Noiramadniculllewdac 
Wonsretsamkcubekralc. 



138 



INDEX 



To the Book, 3 

Twilight Hour, 5 

Annie Bell, . 5 

Violets, i6 

The Brook, the Sun, and Violet, i6 

Let's Go to Grandpa's, i8 

To ]\Iy Boy: ^Mother's Counsel, 20 

Swiftly Comes the Night, 23 

The Golden Rule, 24 

Delayed by Storm, 24 

The Heavenly Vision, 25 

Live Out Your Life, 27 

Valedictory, 29 

Vanity and Vexation, 32 

More Love, My Love, 34 

Flowers of May, 35 

Arbutus from Childhood's Home, 30 

Oh, :Meet ^le in the Valley, 37 

Lost Lorene, 38 

I Miss One Fond Caress, 38 

Farewell, Ludlow, 39 

Burning the Letters, 41 

'Twas Grief and Care, 42 

My Mother's Grave, 43 

Say You Love Me, 43 

The Olden Story, 44 

Farewell all so Dear, 46 

Does He Care? 47 

"He Careth," 48 

Homeless, 50 

"The Lord is My Shepherd," 51 

Not Where to Lay My Head, 52 

Crime of Poverty, 53 

Sequel to Crime of Poverty, 54 

Go Seek the Lost, 56 

139 



So Now I Go to Him, 57 

Rejected Wife, 59 

Broken-hearted, 62 

Weary Day, 62 

Two Dearest Ones, 63 

Sitting Lonely, 65 

Revenge, 66 

Darkest Hour, 67 

Severed Ties, 68 

Rare Gifts, 69 

To Harry: an Appeal, 70 

God Bless You, 70 

My Mother's Roses, 72 

To My Mother-in-law, 'JZ 

Motherless, 74 

Tagabout, 75 

We Have Drifted Apart, ^^ 

To Edith, 78 

To Eva, 79 

Our Doctor's Birthday, 80 

ACROSTICS 

To Z. M. G., 81 

To Ella, 81 

To Isabella, 82 

To Etta, 83 

To Frances, 84 

To Nida, 84 

To Dr. G. Salisbury C., 86 

To G. Sanborn C., 86 

To M. J. C. C., 87 

To Mary, 88 

To Ruth, 89 

To Hattie, 90 

To Carolyn, 90 

To Esther, 90 

IN MEMORIAM 

Faces on the Wall, 91 

Addie Wilson, 91 

To C. T., 96 

To A. C. S., 97 

Farewell, Father, 97 

Hearts Bereft, ' 98 

140 



To Amy, 99 

Photo of My Sister's Babe, 100 

Jesus Called, loi 

Despair, loi 

Faith, 102 

Look to Jesus, 102 

My God, I Love Thee, 103 

My Bible, 104 

Grandma and Grandpa, 105 

I Dreamed, no 

Little Beggar Boy, iii 

Give Mother a Smile, 113 

I Loved Him, 114 

A Ejss, 115 

Judas, 116 

The Drunkard's Wife, 117 

Little Joe, 117 

To a Bachelor Brother, 119 

To ]Mr. and Mrs. J. M. K., 120 

What Does He Eat? 120 

Vera, the Maid of Leverett Glen, 121 

Slim as an Adder, 122 

What Would You Do? 123 

Evan E. B., 124 

Herman and Irene, 125 

Sell Your Picture, 127 

Little Sue, 129 

Gossipy Goss About the Scraggtown Fair, 131 

To the Reader, 136 



141 



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